


Trick or Dead

by shadowsamurai



Category: New Tricks, Waking the Dead (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Angst, Crimes & Criminals, Drama, Explicit Language, F/M, Friendship, Gen, Humor, Mild Language, Romance, Subtext
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-27
Updated: 2012-06-29
Packaged: 2017-11-08 17:16:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 28
Words: 68,272
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/445582
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shadowsamurai/pseuds/shadowsamurai
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Another cold case requires the efforts of both teams, but is there an ulterior motive? As the two squads struggle with the investigation, friendships made before are strained to the point of breaking. Sequel to Waking Old Dogs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Reunion

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers up to and including S6 (but before S7) for Waking the Dead, and S4 (but before S5) for New Tricks.
> 
> Set about 4-5 months after Waking Old Dogs (so about January 2008). For those who wanted more angst, more fireworks, and a sequel in general.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything, I'm just borrowing things for a while and I promise I'll put everything back exactly how I found it when I've finished. Well, almost exactly how I found it. ;)

 

NT-WtD-NT-WtD-NT-WtD

Sandra stood with her hands thrust deep into her coat pocket, her scarf wrapped tightly around her neck, the cold spring wind whipping happily around her.

*'At least it isn't raining,'* she thought sombrely.

Graveyards were her least favourite places, and visiting where her mother was buried was not at the top of her 'to do' list. But Gerry had picked her up that morning to take her to work, and he had stopped at the graveyard, refusing to move until Sandra had been and seen her mother. Sandra started to protest but soon stopped when Gerry just lit a cigarette, folded his arms and settled down in the driver's seat of the Stag.

Sandra stared down at the small stone and sighed. Her mind was everywhere but here. As much as she had cried when her mother died, almost five months down the line she found she didn't really miss her. Even Brian couldn't understand that, which was saying something.

"Sandra."

She turned at Gerry's quiet, respectful tone. "What is it?"

"Just had a phone call from Jack. We're wanted at the office ASAP," he replied. "Apparently Strickland's got something important to tell us."

"Don't tell me, he's retiring and putting you in charge."

Gerry chuckled. "Worse, Brian."

"Oh God," Sandra said, rolling her eyes before smiling. She fell into step next to Gerry as they walked back to the car, but before they left the graveyard, she turned and murmured, "Bye, Mum."

NT-WtD-NT-WtD-NT-WtD

Boyd had just entered the empty squad room when the phone in his office started ringing. Grumbling, he hurried into the room, idly wondering if it was Grace. She had spent the night at her place, and Boyd was scared by how much he had missed her.

"Boyd."

*"Good morning, Peter,"* the Commissioner's voice greeted him.

Boyd automatically stood up straighter. "Sir." As he started to take his coat off, he noticed Spencer and Stella walking down the corridor, talking animatedly with each other. He caught the DI's eye and motioned for them to be silent, pointing to the receiver he was holding and rolling his eyes.

*"Are you in the office?"* the Commissioner asked.

*'No, I'm on the bloody moon. Where do you think I'd be at this time in the morning?'* Boyd thought sarcastically, but out loud he replied, "Yes, sir, I am."

*"Good. I'm sending you everything we have on a new case that I want you to look at."*

Boyd frowned as he finished shrugging his coat off. "But, sir, we've..."

*"The Maybourne case is on hold for now, Peter,"* the Commissioner interrupted. *"This is important."*

*'When isn't it?'* Boyd thought, trying hard not to voice his displeasure. After several weeks of nothing, Eve had finally achieved a breakthrough with a partial fingerprint, and the team were eager to follow it up.

"What's the case?" Boyd asked after a moment or two of silence.

*"The Lisa Riggs disappearance,"* the Commissioner replied. *"Are you familiar with it?"*

"Vaguely, sir. Do we have any fresh leads?"

*"Yes. Her body has just been found."*

Boyd sat down heavily in his chair, not noticing Grace coming into the office and making a beeline for him. "I see. Shouldn't this go the murder squad, sir? Or at least homicide, as it's a recent death."

*"Who said it was recent?"* the Commissioner asked, almost amused.

"I just assumed..."

*"I want your team handling this case, Peter,"* the Commissioner said firmly. *"I believe the original investigation in Lisa Riggs...disappearance was conducted very poorly. The team reached a dead end quickly, despite the suspicious circumstances in which she vanished, and seemed to give up at that. I don't think they were interested, to be frank."*

Boyd tried to suppress a smile. While he was still a pretentious tosser, this Commissioner was better than his predecessor, and the DSI almost liked him. "We will do our best to exact a more complete and satisfactory result, sir."

*"Did Dr Foley write that for you?"* the Commissioner asked, and continued quickly before Boyd could respond. *"I know you will, Superintendent, but to make absolutely sure, I'm drafting in some extra help for you."*

Boyd's frown returned as he straightened in his chair, leaning onto his desk. "With all due respect, sir, my team work better alone."

*"Tell me that again when you've met the help,"* the Commissioner replied. *"Everything pertaining to the case will be with you within the hour. Good luck, Peter."*

"Interesting call?" Grace asked.

Boyd looked up, startled, to see her stood in his doorway, smiling fondly at him. "The Commissioner," he replied.

"I see."

"New case."

Grace frowned. "But the Mayb-"

"On hold."

"Right. New case?"

"We're getting a new case?" Stella asked, handing Grace a mug of tea before venturing all the way into Boyd's office to give him his coffee.

Boyd nodded. "And help as well."

"Help?" Stella asked, also frowning.

"I knew I should have stayed in bed this morning," Grace murmured, turning and heading to her office.

"Don't go far, Grace!" Boyd called. "Team meeting in five!" He sipped his coffee and tried to fight off the headache that was already starting to form. When his phone rang for a second time, he grimaced before answering it. "Boyd."

*"Good morning."*

He smiled despite himself. "Good morning. How are you?"

*"I missed you,"* Grace replied.

"Really? I thought you'd be glad of a rest from my snoring," Boyd said.

*"Well, that was nice, but I missed your company."*

"I missed you too."

*"Really?"* Grace asked.

Boyd nodded firmly, knowing she was watching him. "Really."

*"That's sweet of you. So, what do you think about this new development?"*

"Do you even need to ask?"

*"I know you're not happy about it, but why are we getting the case and why are we getting help?"* Grace asked.

"I can answer the first question," Boyd replied, sipping more of his coffee. "Not sure about the second one."

*"Alright. Five minutes are up. See you outside?"*

Boyd smiled again. "I'll race you."

Just then several officers entered the squad room carrying boxes and Spencer directed them to the spare desk in the corner. "What's going on?" he asked loudly.

"New case," Boyd replied, leaving his office. Reading the look on his DI's face correctly, he held his hand up. "I'll explain in a minute. Believe me, this isn't my idea." He looked around. "Where's Eve?"

"I'll get her,"Stella volunteered.

Boyd nodded. "Spence, all the Maybourne stuff has to come off the board, but don't put it too far out of reach."

Scowling, Spencer started to take the papers down. "So who can I blame for this, sir?"

"The Commissioner."

"And here I was thinking he wasn't that bad," the DI muttered.

The doors from the lab opened, admitting Eve and Stella. "Summoned I come," the scientist said in a monotone. "What's going on?"

"You're about to be very unhappy," Grace told her.

"Why? What's happened?" she asked.

Boyd clapped his hands together. "Right. As of right now, the Maybourne case is on hold at the Commissioner's insistence. If you've got a problem with that, I suggest you take it up with him." No one spoke up. "We've being given a new case, the disappearance of one Lisa Riggs."

"And why are we getting it?" Spencer asked.

"Because her body has just been found," Boyd replied.

A phone rang and Stella answered it. "DC Goodman... Yes, she is... Yes... Just let me ask." She covered the mouthpiece. "You're wanted in the lab, Eve. Something about a dead body."

"I'd worry if it was a live one," Spencer muttered.

"Is it the Riggs case?" Eve asked, and Stella nodded. "I'll be right there."

"Yes, she'll be there in a moment...thank you." The DC put the phone down and looked around at her colleagues. "You said something about help, sir?"

Boyd nodded. "The Commissioner has also assigned us some help on this case. Again, not my idea."

"And who exactly is being drafted in to help us?" Grace asked.

"We are."

The team turned to see Sandra, Jack, Brian and Gerry stood in the doorway, all four smiling warmly.

"Why am I not surprised?" Grace replied, smiling back.

"Did you know about this?" Eve asked, looking at Gerry.

He shook his head. "We only found out about half an hour ago."

The two teams met in the middle of the squad room, and exchanged handshakes, hugs and kisses. While it hadn't been so long since they last saw each other, the bonds of friendship made by their first case working together were strong, and they spent half an hour chatting amicably.

"Well," Sandra said after a while, "I think we'd better get to work, don't you?"

"Work? What's that?" Gerry repeated, looking at Brian.

"No idea," he said.

Gerry looked at Jack. "Don't look at me," Jack replied, holding his hands up.

Sandra rolled her eyes. "Boys."

TBC


	2. Starting

NT-WtD-NT-WtD-NT-WtD

"Alright...," Boyd started to say.

"What have we got?" Sandra asked at the same time.

"They're finishing each other's sentences," Jack muttered to Brian.

"Definitely worrying," he replied.

Gerry grunted. "I'll worry when they start swapping clothes and make-up tips."

Boyd and Sandra both glared at the retired officers, and Grace stepped in to keep the peace as usual. "There are six boxes, so why don't we take one each, and you two can supervise and generally make pains in the arses of yourselves?" she suggested with a sweet smile.

Boyd looked like he was about to protest, but Sandra spoke up first. "I think that sounds like a wonderful idea. You lot get on with that and Boyd and I will be in here." She pointed to his office while looking at him; despite being dense most times when it came to women, he understood the look she was giving him well enough.

"So," he said once he was sat comfortably behind his desk.

"Do you have any idea what this is about?" Sandra asked, straight to the point, from her position opposite him.

"You mean do I know if this is another attempt to play us off against one another?"

"Yes."

"No."

"No, it isn't, or no, you don't know?"

"No, I don't know. But I don't think it is."

Sandra stared at him with a deadpan expression. "Explain."

"When the Commissioner phoned me earlier, he seemed more interested in getting the right result than anything else," Boyd replied.

"You mean the result that makes them look good," Sandra said sarcastically.

Boyd shook his head. "No, I mean the right result. He thinks the original investigation was a farce, to put it bluntly. He wants it doing properly this time and he thinks we'll have better luck if we work together."

"That makes sense," Sandra admitted grudgingly after a few moments. "Next question."

"Go on."

"Why are we here again instead of our place?"

Boyd smiled. "You have offices again now?"

"We do," she replied. "With carpets this time."

"We don't have those, but we do have our own lab and our own psychologist, who comes in handy every now and then."

"Show off."

NT-WtD-NT-WtD-NT-WtD

Gerry, having escaped from the boring task of looking through old notes and interview transcripts, opened the doors to the lab and stuck his head into the room. "Anyone home?"

"Come in and smoke if you have to, but don't disturb me," came Eve's distracted reply,

Gerry smiled, donned a white coat, and entered the lab quietly, knowing better than to disturb the pathologist when she was working. Five months down the line and they were still together; he was starting to think it was some sort of miracle, especially because of how well Eve got on with his daughters and ex-wives. He did keep expecting the bubble to burst, but so far it seemed pretty indestructible.

"Something isn't right with this body," Eve muttered.

"Is it still breathing?" Gerry asked, then wished he hadn't as she fixed him with a glare. "Right. Not disturbing you. Just smoking quietly, see?"

"I'd be happier if it was still breathing," Eve replied, coming to stand next to him. Wordlessly he lit a cigarette and handed it to her. "Thanks."

Hesitantly, he brushed a stray strand of hair from her forehead. "Giving you trouble?" Gerry asked, nodding his head towards the body.

"I need to see the scene where it was found. Well, I really needed to see that first, before the flat-footers walked all over it." She grimaced.

"We're not all flat-footed," Gerry protested and she looked at him. "Alright, only most of us."

Eve sighed. "It's no good, I'm going to have to go there. I don't suppose you, Brian or Jack are good at collecting evidence, are you?"

Gerry shook his head. "Bad idea. I'd leave us here, if I were you."

"That's what I thought. Looks like you've just volunteered Stella and Spencer." She took a final drag of her cigarette before stubbing it out. "Would you mind telling them while I get my gear together?"

"Sure."

Eve smiled and kissed his cheek. "Thanks."

Gerry looked surprised. "What was that for?"

"Do I need a reason?"

"Women always have a reason."

Eve stared at him, her expression a mystery. "Maybe you don't know the female of the species as well as you like to think you do. Now shoo, out of my lab."

A smile spread across Gerry's face as he went back to the squad room, and he was still wearing the silly expression when Grace saw him. "Now that's love if I ever saw it," she said to him.

The expression fell off his face instantly. "What?"

"You look like a man in love," Grace replied, smiling.

Gerry didn't smile back. Instead, he crossed the room, knocked on Boyd's door and opened it. "Eve wants to go to the scene where the body was found, and she wants to take Spence and Stella with her."

Boyd nodded. "Fine. Spence! You and Stella go with Eve."

"Are you alright, Gerry?" Sandra asked, frowning at her colleague.

"Need some air, that's all. Won't be long."

"What was that all about?" Sandra asked as she and Boyd came into the squad room.

Brian and Jack exchanged significant glances. "Oh dear," Jack murmured.

Brian nodded his agreement. "Oh dear indeed."

Sandra put her hands on her hips. "Alright, guys, what's going on?"

"Grace? Are you okay?" Boyd asked, rushing to her side as she turned pale, his hands going straight to her shoulders.

"I'm fine, Peter," she replied, smiling wanly at him. "I think I just made a huge blunder, though."

Sandra sat down and folded her arms. "When someone's ready to tell us exactly what the hell's going on," she said, her tone sarcastic.

Jack, seeing the danger signs as clearly as a mountain, answered. "Grace has just hit Gerry over the head, so to speak, with a fact he didn't want to see or hadn't realised."

"You look like Jack, but you sound like Brian. Is this the Twilight Zone?" Sandra asked.

"Love, Sandra," Brian replied. "Gerry's in love with Eve but isn't prepared to admit it."

"It's been obvious to us for a while now," Jack added.

Sandra looked surprised. "Has it?"

"That would explain Eve's behaviour recently," Boyd said.

"But this is Gerry and love is a somewhat alien concept to him," Grace remarked. "Am I right?"

Sandra nodded. "Oh yeah, dead right."

Boyd patted Grace's shoulder once more before straightening. "We've got more important things to worry about for now, like making progress on this case before the Commissioner decides to put in a surprise appearance. Let's start with the facts. What do we know for absolutely certain?"

"Ah, Gerry, we were just looking for someone to write on the board," Jack said in a jovial voice. "And you've volunteered."

"What? Me? Why?" Gerry asked.

"Because you have such beautiful handwriting," Brian replied. "And because you're already on your feet."

"So's Boyd," Gerry pointed out.

Boyd promptly sat down. "You were saying?" he asked.

Gerry, grumbling, marched up to the board. Behind back, Sandra gave her two colleagues a look that said she knew exactly what they had done and was grateful they had done it.

"What do you want me to start with?" Gerry asked.

"Lisa Riggs, born October 25th 1958," Brian read out from a sheet. "Disappeared October 3rd 1991, aged 33. She left behind a daughter, Isabella Riggs, born June 2nd 1976, and her husband, Jack Thomas Riggs, born March 10th 1967."

"Isabella wasn't Jack's daughter, was she," Sandra stated, frowning.

Brian looked at Jack, who shook his head. "No, step-daughter. Lisa had Isabella when she was eighteen, father unknown. Lisa met Jack in '84, when he was just seventeen, and two years later, in '86, they were married. He was nineteen, she was twenty eight, and Isabella was ten."

"Big age difference," Boyd stated.

"Nine years? You think so?" Grace asked him. "There's five between us."

No one in the room wanted to point out how many years there were between Gerry and Eve. "I think the age difference is irrelevant," Sandra said with a little wave of her hand.

Boyd looked at her. "It might not be, you can't just dismiss something like that."

"It's just a few years, Boyd, it doesn't mean anything!" Sandra replied.

Jack rolled his eyes at Brian. "Here we go."

"Visors down, truncheons at the ready," Brian replied, sinking further into his chair.

Grace, once again the peacemaker, held her hands up. "Enough, both of you," she said to Boyd and Sandra, and then looked at Jack and Brian. "That goes for you two as well. Let's just stick with the facts, shall we?"

"Good idea." Jack stood up.

"Where are you going?" Sandra asked.

"It's almost lunch time, and that's a fact," he replied and headed out of the squad room.

TBC


	3. Questions

NT-WtD-NT-WtD-NT-WtD

Eve scowled when she arrived on the second floor, taking in the amount of police officers and other people milling about with a look of disdain. "Why do they always do this?" she muttered, more to herself than her colleagues. "Most of them don't even need to be here."

"Maybe they're all waiting for you," Spencer joked.

Eve glared at him. "This isn't funny, Spence. Do you have any idea how much evidence they could have destroyed by now?" She shook her head. "This is ridiculous!"

"Actually, I do," Spencer replied, the smile sliding from his face. "Don't get all pissy with me just because this lot don't know their arses from their elbows."

Stella stepped in to do a Grace. "Don't take it out on each other, take it out on them," she said. "Remember that the body had already been found before Boyd even got the call, so if you want to blame someone, Eve, blame the Commissioner.

"He isn't here," the pathologist replied petulantly.

"I can phone him, if you like," Stella offered.

Eve considered it briefly, then sighed. "No, I'll take it out on these fine gentlemen. It's easier, I think." She glanced at her colleague. "Sorry, Spence."

"I'll let you off this time, but try not to do it again," he said with a smile.

Eve smiled back, straightened her shoulders, and walked straight ahead. "Dr Lockhart, cold case unit. Who's in charge here?"

A short, overweight bald man stepped forward, a slight sneer on his face. "DC Orr. Who are you?"

"Dr Lockhart," Eve replied through gritted teeth.

He looked her up and down. "We've got our own forensics people." He turned away.

"And this is now our investigation," Spencer put in, stepping forward.

Orr looked back, his sneer deepening. "And who are you, boy?"

"DI Jordan, and it's 'sir' to you," Spencer replied rather calmly.

Orr's expression shifted quickly; he now looked as if he had swallowed a lead balloon. "Sorry, sir. I wasn't told of any, er, change in command."

Spencer took out his phone. "Call the Commissioner if you want to check. Or you could call DSI Boyd. Whichever you prefer."

"Neither, thanks," Orr replied with a wry smile, then added, "Sir."

"I don't blame you," Stella murmured, trying to make friends with her fellow officer.

But Eve was all business. "I need everyone to clear the room and I'll need any evidence already collected sent to CCHQ."

"We'll also need a statement from you about where the body was found, what you noticed when you first came in, the usual things," Spencer said. "Stella, you can do that."

Orr looked at the Frenchwoman. "DC Goodman," she introduced herself. "Let's go over here, out of the way."

Ten minutes later and the second floor apartment where Lisa Riggs' body had been found was empty of everyone apart from Eve and Spencer. The DI just stood still, holding the case that contained the pathologist's equipment, waiting for instructions, while Eve stood still and shook her head.

"You know, I don't even know what I'm looking for," she said in exasperation, turning around in a slow circle.

"What I don't understand is why we got this case," Spencer remarked.

"Because I would say that Mrs Riggs has been dead for at least ten years," Eve replied, gesturing for him to open the case, her eyes fixed on something.

Spencer stared at her. "Her body was just found."

"I'm still working on an answer," she said, picking up a few photos from the nearby shelf and placing them in bags.

Spencer knew better than to press Eve about anything, so instead he asked, "So, what do you want me to collect?"

"Anything and everything, I think." She sighed. "I think the whole apartment has got to go, Spence, because until I know exactly what we're looking for, everything's a clue.

"We're going to need help, Dr Lockhart," he said in exasperation as he surveyed the apartment.

Eve looked at him and smiled. "Call back the flat-footers and start dishing out orders, DI Jordan."

NT-WtD-NT-WtD-NT-WtD

An assortment of lunchtime cartons, packets and containers littered the desks, and the people present in the room all stared over them as though the debris were battlements and a food fight was about to commence.

"I wonder how Eve, Spence and Stella are getting on," Grace murmured, staring thoughtfully at the ceiling.

"Better than us, I hope," Jack replied grumpily, staring hatefully at the board, which was remarkably empty.

Boyd leant back in his chair. "Every case has a starting point."

"Yes, but do we want to start at the beginning or the end?" Brian asked.

Boyd groaned. "Sandra, make him stop that."

Sandra looked surprised. "Me? Why me?"

"You're his superior officer!"

"I gave up trying to tell this lot what to do years ago," Sandra replied, holding her hands up.

Gerry chuckled. "Yeah, after our first case, if I remember rightly. Doesn't mean she doesn't still try occasionally, but we don't pay any more attention than we did now."

Brian looked at him. "Did we ever pay attention?"

"I didn't," Jack replied. "But then I'm older than you two."

Gerry chuckled again. "You said it."

"Maybe this is why the original investigation didn't get very far," Grace suggested.

Sandra stood up and walked towards the board. "Okay, let's look at this from a different angle."

"Try standing on your head," Brian suggested.

Sandra glared at him. "What did the original investigation come up with as a result?"

"They didn't," Jack replied, looking at a file. "It seems like it was just sort of forgotten about."

"Alright, let's run through the facts again and try to come up with some questions that we can then answer," Sandra said, looking at Boyd to see if he agreed. He nodded.

Gerry stretched and picked some papers up. "Alright, Jack Riggs reported his wife, Lisa, missing on Tuesday 3rd of October 1991 at five twenty seven pm," he read. "She had gone out that morning, seemingly fine, everything normal. She had left her daughter Isabella, or Izzy as she liked to be called, with Jack, which was also normal. What wasn't normal was the fact that Lisa was out past lunchtime. Jack didn't think anything of it, but when she wasn't back by four, he started to worry."

"Why four?" Grace asked.

"Because..." Gerry elongated the word as he scanned down the statement to find the answer. "...Izzy had ballet practice at four, and it was something Lisa always took her daughter to, never Jack. They had to leave the house at three thirty, and Jack said that Lisa was always on time, or early, if she could help it."

"Let me guess, the police officer who took that statement thought he was over reacting," Sandra said.

Gerry nodded. "The recommendation was to come back the next day if she still hadn't turned up, but Mr Riggs was very insistent that his wife be named as a missing person straight away, and so she was."

"What made them take interest?" Boyd asked.

There was a rustle of paper as the officers searched through the file. "Another missing persons report from Lisa's father, Dean Hampton," Brian supplied. "Submitted three days after Mr Riggs'. Apparently, Mr Hampton said that he had spoken to his daughter on the day Mr Riggs said she disappeared, and she was very upset about something, but wouldn't tell him what."

Jack looked at his colleague. "Was this over the phone or in person?"

"What difference does it make?" Sandra asked.

"It's just a question," he replied. "You said we needed questions we could then find the answers to, and that's what I'm doing." He held his hands up. "You never know, it might be important."

"It was in person," Brian said before Sandra and Jack could start bickering properly. "And here's the reason the police took notice; when Lisa left her dad's house, she left her handbag, containing purse and house keys as well as numerous personal affects, behind."

Gerry's eyes widened. "No bird does that."

Brian nodded. "Exactly."

"Alright...," Sandra started.

"Why did it take him three days to decide she was missing?" Boyd asked simultaneously.

Jack rolled his eyes. "They're doing it again."

Brian looked down at the sheet of paper. "Mr Hampton thought that she had just gone home, but on the morning of the sixth of October, he phoned the Riggs household and asked to speak to his daughter. Of course, she wasn't there."

"During the course of the investigation, Mr Riggs said he hadn't pursued the missing persons claim he made on the third because he had thought over what the police officer had said and decided he was right," Gerry continued, reading from a report. "Mr Riggs thought that his wife was at her father's house as she sometimes stayed there to keep him company as her mother had died about twelve months previously and her father was finding it difficult."

Flashes of her mother coping with her father's death came back to Sandra, and she couldn't help but wonder if Dean Hampton had endured the same betrayal by his wife as her own mother had by her father.

Boyd put his hands behind his head and leant back in his chair. "Right, so all we have are the facts we had before and no questions, never mind answers."

Grace's posture was the opposite of his; she was leant forward, her elbows on her knees, her hands clasped together and her index fingers against her lips. "This family unit intrigues me," she said, pointing to the names on the board. "I don't suppose we have any photos of the family, do we?"

"We haven't found any so far," Jack replied.

"Interesting," Grace murmured.

"What are you thinking?" Sandra asked, watching the profiler closely.

"I'm not sure, but if I was to listen to my gut instinct, I think there's something interesting going on with the family unit." She held her hands up. "But don't ask me what."

"Can you build up a profile of Jack, Izzy and Lisa Riggs?" Boyd asked.

"And Dean Hampton," Gerry added.

Boyd nodded. "Him too."

"If I have all the notes from the interviews conducted, I should be able to at least give you the basics," Grace replied. "But try to remember, Boyd, that these profiles will be fourteen years old."

He just smiled at her. "It's a start. Do you want someone to help you?"

"Stella," she replied.

Boyd rolled his eyes. "She isn't back yet. Pick someone else until then."

"Jack."

"Alright, how long did the investigation run for?" Boyd asked

"Two months," Brian replied. "The police gave up because they couldn't find anything."

"What, nothing at all?" Gerry asked in surprise.

"Nothing," Brian repeated. "No sightings of her, she didn't turn up anywhere, and no dead bodies matching Lisa's description surfaced either. So to speak."

"Was the file kept open?" Sandra asked.

"It was never solved, so the case would have remained open or in the very least, unsolved," Boyd replied. "So it is an old case."

Brian looked at his boss. "Why did you want to know?"

"I'm just wondering why the case has never been reviewed, despite the lack of new evidence."

"It was reviewed," Jack said, "Seven years ago."

"How do you know that?" Brian asked.

"Because there's a bloody note on the inside of the folder," Jack replied, shaking his head.

Boyd smiled at their antics. "Alright, let's go over the usual. Everyone's statements, where they were on the day of the disappearance, days leading up to and afterwards as well. Check motives of everyone too. At least until Eve gets back."

"I don't suppose there's any chance I can help Grace and Jack instead, is there?" Gerry asked hopefully.

Sandra looked at him. "Why?"

"Easier work," Brian and Jack replied in unison.

TBC


	4. Headaches

NT-WtD-NT-WtD-NT-WtD

It wasn't long after the teams had started the hard task of retracing the steps of the original investigation that Spencer and Stella entered the squad room. Spencer held his hands up immediately as he stopped in the middle of the room.

"Don't ask," he said.

"We never said anything," Boyd protested.

Gerry laughed. "He's not letting you get any questions in. He knows what you're like."

"Can you tell us anything?" Sandra asked.

"I could, but I won't," Spencer replied as he sat down.

Boyd looked at Stella. "Don't get comfortable. Grace wants you." With a groan, the DC pushed herself back to her feet. "And if she's finished with Jack, send him back in!" he called.

Sandra glared at Spencer. "Why *won't* you tell us anything, DI Jordan?"

"Because, Superintendent Pullman, it isn't worth my life," he told her quite calmly. "You should know by now that Eve will tell us everything she can when she's ready and not a minute before. The only thing I can and will say is that she's confused by this case."

"Join the club," Brian muttered.

"Let's not start throwing rank around," Boyd said, attempting a Grace and managing it quite well.

"Do we have the report about how the body was found?" Sandra asked suddenly.

Boyd shook his head. "The Commissioner failed to send us that piece of information."

"We took statements from all the officers present, including the one who had been left in charge," Spencer said. "A DC Orr."

Gerry looked up. "Not David Orr."

Sandra's expression became grim. "You know him?"

"Not exactly," Gerry replied evasively.

"Please tell me you didn't shag his wife," she said, aghast.

"No," Gerry protested.

Sandra sighed and visibly relaxed. "Good."

"It was his sister."

NT-WtD-NT-WtD-NT-WtD

Eve poured over the evidence they had collected from the scene, her frown deepening. Something was seriously out of place with the case, but she couldn't put her finger on it. From the brief conversation she'd had with Boyd not long ago, it seems they were once again being jerked around by the higher powers. The vital information they needed to make headway with the case, the information about how exactly Lisa Riggs' body was found fourteen years after she disappeared, was being withheld from them without any reason. Or any reason that was *given*, Eve corrected herself silently. There probably was a reason, just not one that anyone felt like sharing.

Although at that moment in time, the pathologist could understand that thought. She wasn't keen on sharing what she had on the case so far with anyone, only because she knew the teams would have answers she simply couldn't answer yet. Eve knew Lisa Riggs had been dead for at least ten years, but how her body suddenly turned up in an apartment was a complete mystery. And the evidence they had brought back from the apartment...well, the least said about that, the better. It was all so sterile, so...perfect.

Eve stood up straighter and looked at photos taken of the apartment when they arrived. It seemed too perfect. Almost like a set up... Leaning across the unit, she grabbed the phone and dialled the extension for Boyd's office.

"I need you all to come in here," she told him. "I may have something, but don't get excited, Boyd. I think it's only a small something."

"A small something is better than nothing," Boyd replied moments later when he burst into the lab, closely followed by everyone else.

Sandra looked around as they all got themselves settled. "It's a little crowded in here."

"I prefer to think of it as cosy," Gerry said.

"I bet you do," Sandra muttered.

Boyd ignored them all and looked at Eve. "So, what's this small something you wanted to share?"

"Take a look at these." On her computer, she put up a slide show of all the photos of the apartment, and watched the faces of her colleagues as they grouped around the screen to watch. "What do you notice?"

"The curtains don't match the carpet," Brian said in exasperation.

"Someone does a lot of reading," Jack added.

Grace rolled her eyes. "Honestly. Boys." She glanced at Eve. "It looks like it's been staged."

"Staged?" Gerry asked.

Spencer nodded in understanding and took over from Grace after a curt nod from the profiler. "Like for a film, TV series or photo shoot. Everything's too precise, too clean. No way was that place ever lived in. But why?" he asked, frowning. "Why would someone set up the apartment like that and then put a dead body in?"

Eve shook her head. "The body had to have been put there recently."

"What?" Boyd asked, his eyes widening a little.

"But you said Lisa Riggs had been dead for at least ten years," Stella put in, then blushed as everyone, including Eve, glared at her. "Sorry."

Sandra held her hand up. "Wait. You're saying that Mrs Riggs' deceased body, by ten years, was recently placed in this staged apartment?"

Eve took a deep breath. "Right now, yes. That is what I'm saying. I don't have all the answers yet, but there's definitely something strange going on here. The preliminary examination on the body tells me she had been dead for a minimum of nine years, but I can't give you an exact date because of the preservation."

Brian stood up and took his glasses off. "Preservation? As in someone put this woman in a freezer for a few years?"

"I think that's exactly what happened," Eve replied.

Grace put her hand on the pathologist's arm. "I think you'd better explain this to us properly."

Everyone moved away, giving Eve some space. "I don't want anyone quoting me on this because I'll need to run more tests before I'm absolutely certain, but here's what I think so far. Lisa Riggs died at least nine years ago, possible ten, and she was kept in a freezer for about seven years."

"How do you know that?" Jack asked.

"Because I checked the rate of decomposition and the body had to have been out in the open for two to tree years before discovery."

Boyd started pacing. "So, Lisa Riggs disappears in '91. She dies in...what? '98? Let's say '98. Yeah? Then nothing for seven years. Which brings us to 2005 when the body was presumably placed in this...could it be a recreation?" he asked Grace.

"What?"

"The apartment. Could it be a recreation of something?"

Grace sighed. "I don't know, Boyd. Perhaps. I'd need to study it in more detail, and see pictures of the places Lisa lived before, if that's possible."

"Okay, let's just put a pin in that idea for now. So," Boyd continued, "Disappears '91, dies – or is murdered – '98. Body placed in apartment in 2005, then body discovered in 2008. Which would be...now." He stopped pacing and looked at everyone. "What does that give us?"

"A bloody headache," Gerry announced.

"We've got a period of at least six years between Lisa's disappearance and her death," Spencer said. "Someone has got to know where she was during that time."

"What we really need is the report concerning the discovery of the body," Sandra announced. "That would give us a starting point at least. We need details of who leased the apartment, how they paid, and why no one noticed a decomposing corpse for three years."

"Why are you staring at me?" Boyd asked.

"Because it's your case."

"We hold the same rank."

"The Commissioner called you. We're just the help, remember?"

"That wasn't my idea," Boyd said.

Sandra shrugged. "Doesn't matter, that's our label now." A dense silence descended over the room. "Well?" she asked impatiently.

Boyd threw his hands into the air. "Alright, I'm going!" He stood and strode out of the room, muttering loudly as he went. "Women!"

TBC


	5. Forward

NT-WtD-NT-WtD-NT-WtD

They had taken to staring at the clock on the wall, watching the seconds and minutes pass by slowly as there was nothing else to do. They couldn't go home early, not with such an important case before them, but until someone gave them some important information, they couldn't move forward. As Spencer had pointed out when they left Eve's lab, they could have found the information about the apartment themselves, but as Boyd pointed out, that wouldn't be a smart move. If the Commissioner had wanted them to have that information, he would have given it to them. His phone call with the Commissioner had not gone well at all, and Boyd's only remark afterwards was to tell Sandra to call herself next time.

As well as clock-watching, everyone was pen-tapping, much to the annoyance of their neighbour. It was like a vicious circle, no one wanting to stop, but each fed up with whoever was sat next to them for making such a noise.

The young PC who came down the corridor carrying a slim folder didn't see the bored officers in the squad room, nor did he notice them all sit forwards when they saw him approaching. He did, however, start a little when he noticed all eyes were upon him.

"Superintendent Boyd?" he asked nervously.

Boyd strode out of his room, his dark eyes boring into the young man's. "Yes?"

"The Commissioner asked me to give you this, sir." He held the folder out.

Boyd eyed it as though it was a poisonous snake. "What is it?"

The PC swallowed. "It's the information on the body that was found earli-"

There was a mad scramble as everyone jumped to their feet and moved quickly towards the PC, who looked positively terrified and took several steps backwards, the folder disappearing behind his back.

"Stop!" Boyd shouted.

Sandra glared at him whilst the others stop dead in their tracks, eyeing the PC as predators would look at their next meal. "It's the information we've been waiting for!" she yelled back.

"Yes," Boyd replied calmly. "And it was sent for me." He looked at the young officer. "I'll take that. Thank you. You can go."

The PC all but ran from the room. Sandra put her hands on her hips and glared at Boyd some more. "Well?" she demanded to know.

"Well what?" he asked.

"What does it say?"

"I don't know, I haven't read it yet. But I'll let you know when I do." With that, Boyd turned and walked into his office, shutting the door behind him.

Grace and Jack looked at each other and muttered, "Oh dear," in unison.

"Five, four...," Gerry started to count down.

"Three," Brian chimed in.

"Two," Spencer added.

"One," Stella finished.

Right on cue, Sandra stormed towards Boyd's office, flinging the door open with such force that it almost sprung right back in her face. "What do you think you're doing?" she demanded to know once more.

Boyd looked at her over the top of his glasses. "I'm reading a report, Superintendent Pullman. What does it look like?"

"Don't give me that crap," Sandra said as she walked into the room, seemingly forgetting that the door was still open. "You should be sharing that information with the rest of us, not keeping it all for yourself like a petulant child!"

"What I am doing, +Superintendent*, is making sure this is relevant before I share it with the rest of the team!" Boyd shouted back, coming to his feet instantly. "I don't see the point in telling them anything they don't need to know!"

"It's the first proper lead we've had so far and you just don't want to share it," Sandra said spitefully.

Boyd stared at her for a long time. "As you so kindly pointed out earlier, *Sandra*, I'm in charge of this investigation, which means that it is my prerogative to read this report before sharing it with anyone else, then when I do *share* the information, I know I am only sharing the facts," he replied slowly. Sandra opened her mouth to reply, but never got the chance before Boyd roared, "Now get out!"

"You can't order me around like one of your lackeys!" Sandra retorted heatedly.

"Come on, Sandra, let the man work," Gerry called.

She whirled and glared at him. "Why are you siding with him?"

"Because Boyd's got a point," Brian said bluntly.

"Besides," Jack added, "I have the feeling if you hadn't blown up at him, he'd have been back out in about two minutes."

Grace nodded her agreement. "He would have. It was his idea of a joke. Not a brilliant one, I might add, but at least he's making an effort."

She kept her eyes on Boyd as she spoke, her stare speaking a different language than her voice, and she was smiling all the time to rob her remarks of any offence they might cause in his agitated state. Boyd held her gaze resolutely and she could see the anger there, but also the chance for it to evaporate into thin air...if only Sandra would apologise.

"We're not here to take sides," Spencer spoke up, obviously seeing something Grace had failed to notice with her scrutiny of Boyd. "We worked well before and we can do it again. We didn't ask for this case and we didn't ask for any help, and we certainly didn't ask that your team to be subordinate to ours." He paused, giving Sandra chance to respond if she wanted to, but she stayed quiet. "You don't have to prove yourself to us, you know."

Just then, Eve came through into the squad room. "I need coffee, please tell me there's some..." She trailed off as took in the silence. "...There's something in the atmosphere and maybe I should just go back to where I came from," she finished lamely.

Stella caught her eye and shook her head. "No, it's fine," she said in a bright voice before miming 'please stay!'

"So, what did I miss?" Eve asked rather bluntly as she sat in the nearest chair.

"The Commissioner has just sent a report down on the discovery of Lisa Riggs' body," Grace answered before anyone else could. "Boyd was going to speed read it and then tell us the facts."

Eve nodded, smiling at Gerry who had handed her a cup of coffee. "Good idea. I'll just wait here until he's finished then." She tilted her head on one side to glance at Boyd.

"I don't suppose you've got any news for us?" Brian asked hopefully.

"Nothing yet, sorry."

"Cause of death," Spencer suggested.

Eve shook her head. "Not even that." She held her hands up. "I know, I know. Believe me, I'm working on it."

Sandra was still stood in Boyd's office looking pretty pissed and quietly, Boyd crossed the room and closed the door, ignoring the stares from the rest of the two teams. "Take a seat, Sandra," he said. Deliberately, he sat on the couch instead of returning to his desk. "Clearly there's a problem and I'd like to get it sorted before we go any further. Do you want to tell me what it is?"

Although she tried hard to stay angry at him, Sandra couldn't quite manage it, not with Boyd's concerned expression and approachable posture. "I think Grace is having a bad influence on you," she said with an apologetic smile.

"Don't worry, I've been repaying the favour," Boyd replied. "Wait until you here her shout."

"I think I'll forgo that experience, thanks." Sandra sighed. "I suppose I should apologise."

"It might not be a bad idea."

But she didn't; both knew after offering to apologise, actually saying 'sorry' wasn't necessary. "This is the second time your team has been chosen over mine to run an operation."

Boyd raised his eyebrows. "You might want to rephrase that sentence or I could take great offence."

Sandra rolled her eyes. "Alright, this is the second time your team has been picked to lead a case while mine has the label of hired help."

"And as Spence pointed out, we don't treat you any differently for it," Boyd replied. "We're all on an equal footing here, Sandra. Besides, if anyone has to get bollocked over this case, it'll be me not you. You should be happy about that."

"I know, but still..."

"You get the glory without any of the crap. Why are you complaining?" he asked.

Sandra smiled. "The risk of getting bollocked is part of the job, Boyd. I think it's addictive."

"I think you need help."

"Probably. I'll make an appointment with Grace."

"Sooner rather than later." Boyd stood and Sandra did the same. "Same deal as last time. We'll share the leadership responsibilities but ultimately, any key decisions will be still be mine. Agreed?"

Sandra nodded. "Agreed. Does that mean I get to bollock your team whenever I feel like it, though?" she asked slyly as they crossed the room.

"As much as I get to bollock yours," Boyd replied.

"Feel free. In fact, I insist you do that whenever you feel like it."

NT-WtD-NT-WtD-NT-WtD

Grace eyed them both critically as they entered the squad room. "I trust we treated each other nicely, children, and that there was no hitting?" she asked archly.

Sandra glanced at Boyd. "Nope, no hitting."

"Not yet, anyway," Boyd added in a mumbled whisper.

Grace, however, glared at him. "I heard that."

"So, do we have anything to share or should I just go back to work?" Eve asked, forestalling any further bickering, friendly or otherwise.

"Somebody needs a nicotine fix," Brian murmured. Eve glared at him. "Gerry, mate, tell her."

Gerry held his hands up. "Sorry, Brian, it'd take a braver man than me."

"It would just take a man," Sandra replied with a smirk.

Spencer coughed delicately. "The report...," he said, leaving the sentence hanging.

"Good luck trying to keep this lot on track," Jack said as he stood and walked over to the coffee machine.

Stella was the only one with the good sense to remain quiet.

Boyd glanced at the clock. "We could just leave it until tomorrow," he suggested. "It's clocking off time, so if you want to go home..." His ears were assaulted with a barrage of 'not bloody likely', 'you've got to be joking', and '*now* you want to let us go early?', as well as various other indignant grunts and exclamations. "I take it's that's a 'no'?"

"Boyd, if you don't go through that report right now...," Grace said in a threatening tone of voice.

"Daddy Bear won't get any honey tonight," Sandra finished in a quiet voice, but not quiet enough. Boyd glared at her, whilst Jack and Gerry were overcome by coughing fits.

Boyd settled himself properly into his chair and opened the report, murmuring as he skimmed over it. "Okay. At six seventeen this morning, the duty sergeant got a call from the landlady, a Mrs Martha Kiernan, of the apartment block where Lisa Riggs' body was found. She seemed more annoyed than worried, according to the sergeant."

"Oh, why?" Jack asked with a slight frown.

"Because she'd had several complaints from tenants about the smell emanating from flat 14B, which was where Lisa's body was found," Boyd replied. "And according to the subsequent interview of Mrs Kiernan, the tenants had been complaining for some time."

Brian looked at Boyd. "How long?"

There was a pause as he found the relevant information. "Upward of seven months ago. At least that was when she remembered the first person complaining. It could have been even longer than that."

Spencer whistled, while Grace said, "Bloody hell."

"Whose name was the apartment leased in?" Stella asked.

"Sam Taylor," Boyd said.

"We'll check that out," Spencer said.

"So, Mrs Kiernan gets all these complaints, yeah?" Boyd continued. "Which annoys her because she says her apartment block is the cleanest in the neighbourhood. So she goes to 14B, knocks, no answer. That's when she phones the police."

"Alright," Sandra said, leaning forward. "When was the last time she say anyone go in or out of that apartment?"

Boyd read a little more, then smiled thinly. "This is the best part – Mrs Kiernan doesn't remember *anyone* going into or out of that apartment."

There was an incredulous silence, with everyone looking at Boyd. "So, what do we do now?" Jack asked eventually.

Boyd threw the report on the desk, stretched back in his chair and put his hands behind his head. "Question the landlady again, question everyone in that apartment block, especially the neighbours of 14B. Let's talk to Lisa's dad, Dean Hampton, as well, and her husband, Jack Riggs. Also see if you can find her daughter, Isabella."

"Has anyone told Mr Hampton and Mr Riggs about the discovery of Lisa's body?" Grace asked curiously.

Boyd smiled thinly again. "What do you think?"

"That'll be my job I suppose, then," she replied dryly.

"I don't mind going to see one of them," Sandra offered, looking at Boyd for confirmation.

He nodded. "First of all, we need to find everyone."

Gerry, Brian, Jack, Spencer and Stella all looked at each other. "We're on it," Gerry said eventually.

Eve stood. "I'll be in the lab if anyone needs me. Not that I'd ever be anywhere else."

TBC


	6. Trouble

NT-WtD-NT-WtD-NT-WtD

By the time everyone had been allocated jobs to do, people to find, and reports to re-check, it was time to go home. Eve went off with Spencer and Stella, telling Gerry she'd see him tomorrow at work. She missed the crestfallen expression on the ex-DS's face; Sandra didn't, and neither did Jack.

"I was thinking, guys, why don't we go out for a meal? My shout," Sandra suggested, looking at her team.

Jack eyed her. "Are you choosing?"

She smiled. "I'll let you choose."

"Fish and chips," Brian said longingly.

"Sounds good to me. Gerry?" Jack asked.

"What? Oh, yeah, fish and chips. Great," he replied distractedly.

"I fancy Greek tonight," Grace said to Boyd, and even he didn't miss the hint in her voice.

He acted surprised. "Really? I thought we could order Chinese and eat in."

"Well, that works as well." She smiled at the others. "We'll see you tomorrow."

"Thanks," Sandra murmured before continuing, louder, "Alright, enjoy yourselves."

"Night," Jack, Brian and Gerry chorused.

"Is that going to cause a problem?" Boyd asked once he was certain they were alone.

"What? Eve and Gerry?" Grace smiled. "That is a very good question. I honestly don't know. We can hope that it won't, but you never know."

"Hmm," Boyd grunted.

"You know they could say the same about us," Grace reminded him.

"No one's brave enough."

She laughed. "I suppose that's true. Now, are we going to eat or not?"

NT-WtD-NT-WtD-NT-WtD

The next morning, everyone turned up to work on time, all bright eyed and bushy tailed, especially Boyd and Grace and no one dared to ask why. Eve and Gerry seemed more relaxed around each other again, which Grace was glad to see. There wasn't much talking as they all concentrated on their individual jobs, and by mid-morning, they had made some slight progress.

"Mrs Kiernan said she can see us at twelve," Spencer called to Boyd.

"Alright, go with Jack," Boyd replied.

"We've also found Mr Hampton, sir," Stella said.

Boyd came out of his office. "Have you spoken to him?"

"Not yet, but I have his telephone number here."

She handed it to Boyd, who took it straight into Grace's office. "Dean Hampton's number. Can you...?"

"Leave it with me," she replied with a smile.

He smiled back. "Thanks." He went back into the squad room. "What about Jack Riggs and Isabella Riggs?"

"Nothing yet," Brian said, the frustration evident in his voice.

"Sam Taylor?"

Gerry shook his head. "Nothing."

Boyd frowned. "Spence, check whether Mrs Kiernan ever saw anybody at all go into that apartment. Squeeze her until she squeaks, if you have to."

"Boyd," Sandra protested.

"I can't believe nobody saw anything!" he replied, gesturing. "In...how many years?"

"Three," Eve supplied as she came into the room. "More or less, anyway."

"How do you know?" Jack asked curiously.

She sat in the nearest chair and looked at him with a frown. "Because of the tests I've run. I did mention it to you yesterday."

"Did you?"

"Yes, she did," Brian replied. "I remember."

"You bloody well would," Jack grumbled.

"Have you got something for us?" Sandra asked.

"I can confirm that Lisa Riggs' body was definitely frozen for around ten years, and I would also go so far as to say that the body was frozen not long after death occurred," the pathologist explained. "As for the cause of death, I'm still working on that. There's no outward trauma to suggest violence or aggression of any kind. No bruising, no lesions, nothing. I'm waiting on toxicology reports, but I'm not hopeful they'll find much after such a long period of preservation." She stood and wandered back to the lab.

"So...what are we looking at, then?" Spencer asked.

"Murder at the most, suicide at the least," Jack said.

"Yeah, but whoever hid her body is in this up to their neck," Gerry pointed out. "They illegally hid a dead body, then put it in an apartment that looks like it's been staged. That says murder to me."

"We don't even know it's the same person who hid body who put it in the apartment," Brian pointed it.

"Even if it's five people, Brian, they've still got to be working together."

"Alright, that's enough," Sandra said. "Let's just stick to the facts for now." She looked at Boyd. "We'll concentrate on tracking Jack and Isabella Riggs down, and Sam Taylor if we can, while you go to see Mr Hampton."

"Spence, Jack, see if this elusive Mr Taylor left any kind of contact information, or any information at all, with Mrs Kiernan," Boyd told them.

Jack nodded. "Will do."

Spencer checked his watch. "We'd better get going."

Grace came out of her office as they left, her brow furrowed slightly. "Mr Hampton will see us right away."

"Isn't that a good thing?" Brian asked.

"Yes, but it was strange. He was very calm, almost like he knew why I was phoning."

"Did you tell him?" Boyd asked.

Grace shook her head. "I didn't need to. I think he *did* know."

Sandra just shrugged. "Maybe it's a parent's intuition about these things," she said, looking at Boyd.

Stella put her elbows on her desk. "Or maybe he was somehow involved in the death of his...daughter," she suggested, trailing off as the TV blared into life. "Merde!"

Gerry reached around her and prised the remote from under her elbow. "You might want to be a little more...careful," he said to her, also trailing off as he saw what was on the television. "Oh, shit."

The BBC news was running a breaking news story about a body which had been found by police early that morning under strange circumstances. There was a picture of the apartment and the building, and a short interview with Mrs Kiernan.

"Oh dear," Grace murmured.

Sandra looked at Stella. "Any ideas who might be responsible for this?"

The DC's face took on a panicked look. "Me, ma'am? No, why would I?"

"She isn't suggesting it's you," Gerry said with a smile. "Sandra just wants to know if there was anyone hanging around the crime scene when you arrived, or if you noticed anything suspicious."

Stella relaxed a little and shook her head. "No, but...well, there was the DC in charge, DC Orr..."

Gerry muttered something derogatory under his breath.

"He seemed upset we were taking over what he considered to be his investigation," Stella finished.

"Shouldn't we phone Jack and Spencer?" Brian asked.

Boyd opened his mouth to reply and the phone in his office rang. "I bet you couldn't do that again," Sandra said, smiling.

"Do you still want to be in charge?" he replied.

She shook her head. "No, thanks. I like being hired help."

"I thought you might," Boyd said dryly, striding into his office to answer the phone, pushing the door shut as he passed it.

"I'll call the boys," Gerry offered, wandering out of the squad room.

Grace turned to Sandra. "What happened last night?" she asked without preamble.

Sandra blinked in surprise. "We had dinner."

"Between Gerry and Eve. There was a lot of tension when they left," Grace explained. "Boyd was worried."

"Really?" Sandra asked sceptically.

"Don't judge him so harshly, Sandra," Grace replied. "I know he seems like a tyrant, but he does have a softer side. Occasionally. Just like you."

Brian rolled his eyes while Stella's went slightly too wide. "When you two have finished, you want to keep an eye on Boyd coming back in," Brian remarked.

"How did they take the news?" Stella asked Gerry as he came back into the room.

He chuckled dryly. "How do you think?"

"Not well," Brian said.

"Speaking of not well, he looks pretty pissed." Gerry nodded in the direction of Boyd's office.

Everyone turned to look and silently, all agreed with Gerry's observation. Boyd's eyes were hard, the anger and indignation barely controlled, and his lips were compressed into a very thin line. His shoulders were set so straight and stiffly they could have been used as a ruler.

Grace sighed wearily. "Oh dear." She knew what the signs meant; it meant Boyd would still be in a bad mood when they left work that evening, and she could either send him home alone, which would probably put him in an even fouler mood, or she could spend the night trying to placate him, which would put *her* in a bad mood. Neither option seemed appealing.

"Brian, why don't you and I just...nip out for a while?" Gerry suggested.

Brian caught his drift immediately. "I think I could use a break," he said, standing.

Sandra glared at them both. "Sit. Stay," she ordered them both.

"Would anybody mind if I left?" Stella asked as Boyd started to come out of his office.

Everyone braced themselves and held their breath. Boyd seemed to be literally seething with rage as he came to a stand still in front of them. "That was the Commissioner."

"We guessed," Sandra remarked dryly.

"Needless to say, he is less than happy about the leak," Boyd started, "But he isn't holding us responsible...yet."

"What?" Grace asked, surprised.

"The Commissioner has a good idea who is responsible for this...disaster, and I agree with him on who it would most likely be. The Commissioner has given me twenty four hours to...'deal' with the problem." A slow, vicious grin spread across Boyd's face. "Brian, Gerry, I'd like you two to go and have a nice little talk to DC David Orr. Teach him the error of his ways."

The boys answering grins were only a shade less vicious than Boyd's. "Won't be long," Gerry called cheerily as he started to leave.

Brian looked at Grace. "No hitting?" he asked.

Grace held her hands up. "I never said anything. In fact, as far as I'm concerned, I don't know anything about any of this."

Brian looked at Sandra, who did the same as Grace. "I'm with her," she said, pointing to the profiler.

Boyd looked at Brian, and then Gerry. "Are you two still here?" Five seconds later, though, they weren't. "Right, Grace, are we ready?"

"Just let me get my bag."

"What do you want us to do?" Sandra asked.

"Find me Jack Riggs!" Boyd shouted as he and Grace left as well.

TBC


	7. Meetings

NT-WtD-NT-WtD-NT-WtD

Spencer scowled as he pulled up in the journalist-infested car park of the apartment block where Lisa Riggs' body had been found. Gerry's warning about the parasites hadn't come a moment too soon, and Jack just sighed.

"You know what the worst part about this job is?" he asked as they both sat in the car, reluctant to get out.

"You can't kill any of them without getting arrested?" Spencer replied.

Jack nodded. "It's criminal."

Spencer grunted in a very Boyd-like way. "I suppose we'd better get this over with."

"I don't suppose you saw a back way in, did you?" Jack asked hopefully.

Spencer shook his head. "I was too busy trying not to run any reporters over."

"Pity."

The DI didn't ask whether it was a shame there was no back entrance or that no reporters were turned into pancakes. "Come on, let's go and see Mrs Kiernan."

"Do we have to?" Jack asked, his tone a shade away from being a whine.

"No, we don't, but when we get back, you can tell Boyd and Sandra why we didn't see the landlady."

Jack sighed theatrically. "Alright, let's get this over with.

Spencer smiled and got out of the car, reporters immediately surrounding them like flies to honey. The questions came at them thick and furiously, and if asked later, the DI wouldn't be able to name a single one that was asked him. He wasn't even sure that he could remember a word that was spoken to him.

All of a sudden, Jack sneezed violently. "Are you okay?" Spencer asked him in concern while the reporters took a half step back.

"Oh no, don't get too close," Jack told his colleague. "Remember what I told you, what the doctor told me?"

Spencer's eyes widened. "Is it that contagious?"

"Worse," Jack replied, sneezing again. "He said that anyone in the immediately area of me if I start sneezing or coughing should get themselves inoculated before the rash starts."

"And where would be a good place to start looking for a rash?" Spencer asked, trying his hardest not to laugh.

Jack looked mortified. "I couldn't repeat what I was told, but let's just say it would be very unpleasant and uncomfortable."

They suddenly found a wide gap between them and the reporters and moving with deliberate slowness, they entered the building. Only once safely in the quiet of foyer did Spencer allow himself to grin.

"That was evil."

Jack shrugged. "It worked, didn't it? Bloody vultures. I'd shoot the lot of them if I had my way."

"You wouldn't get any objections from me," Spencer replied. "Now, which door is it?"

"I'm guessing this one," Jack said, knocking.

"If I have to tell you lot to go away once more, I'm calling the police!" a woman shouted.

"We are the police," Jack shouted back, then muttered to Spencer, "You might want to take a step back."

Sure enough, the door was yanked open to reveal a diminutive woman wielding a heavy frying pan with extreme ferocity. "ID!" she yelled, and Spencer wondered how such a loud voice came out of such a small person.

Quickly, the DI showed his ID card. "I'm DI Jordan, this is my colleague, Mr Halford. We need to ask you a few questions, may we come in?"

Mrs Kiernan eyed them both suspiciously. "I answered a lot of questions already. A DC asked me yesterday, though I don't think he believed a word I said. And now, today, look!" She gestured wildly with the frying pan, reminding Spencer of Boyd, and almost decapitating Jack in the process. "Have you any idea how this is ruining my business? My tenants like it here because it's peaceful, it's quiet. This is anything but! It's...it's...it's a bloody circus! I demand to know who's responsible!"

"If you let is in, we'll tell you," Spencer replied.

Mrs Kiernan looked from one to the other before finally dropping her pan-wielding arm and marching back inside. "Close the door behind you," she called back.

Spencer looked at Jack. "After you."

Jack shook his head. "No, after *you*. You are the ranking officer, after all. Go on, chop, chop."

"I don't think I like you any more," the DI muttered as he entered the apartment.

It was fastidiously neat, and for a moment Spencer was reminded of Lisa Riggs' place and Eve's suggestion it might have been staged. He risked a casual glance at Jack, whose expression told him he thought the same thing. Of course, to many people it would be completely inconceivable that a nice, little old lady like Mrs Kiernan could possibly have anything to do with the murder of Lisa Riggs...if it was, of course, murder. But Spencer and Jack weren't any old people...although 'old' was a matter of opinion...of course.

"So, who is responsible for this insanity?" Mrs Kiernan demanded to know after she had sat down. No offer of a cuppa, no offer to sit. The two officers disliked her more and more with each passing second.

"An officer who was here earlier," Spencer replied, sitting down anyway. "He's being dealt with, I can assure you." Little did the DI know how true his words were.

"Mrs Kiernan, I know you've probably been through this once already, but we need to ask you some questions," Jack said, then gestured at an armchair. "May I?"

Mrs Kiernan waved at him impatiently. "Yes, yes, get on with it. I have a business to run, you know, and I cannot be doing with all these interruptions!"

"Very well. Why did you call the police?" Spencer asked.

She sighed. It was a long-suffering noise, and Jack decided her husband must have been a very understanding man. "My tenants were complaining about a smell from 14B. I knocked, there was no answer, so I called the police."

"That's not something we usually deal with. Don't you have a spare key?" Jack asked.

"Of course, but it isn't polite to just go into someone's apartment without an invitation," Mrs Kiernan replied.

Spencer leant forward. "Is there something else you want to tell us, Mrs Kiernan?"

"Such as?"

"It seems highly unusual to me that you would phone the police just because a tenant doesn't answer their door." He held her gaze, saw the strength behind her eyes despite her age, but he didn't blink. He thought of Boyd and managed to out stare her.

"I told the other officer, I've never seen anyone going in or out of that apartment. But because they kept paying me, I didn't ask questions. That's not part of my job." Mrs Kiernan gave them both a pointed glare. "But when I went to knock on the door to complain about the smell, I noticed it was particularly...putrid." Her eyes suddenly started to fill with tears. "It was the same smell as when my husband died."

"Your husband?" Jack asked gently.

She nodded. "Alfred. It was about the same time as 14B was leased. I had gone on holiday with my friend, Susie, to Turkey. Alfred didn't like travelling, so he stayed at home and looked after the building." She smiled a little. "He didn't do a very good job, laziest man I ever laid eyes on, but still... Susie and I were gone for three weeks, and when I got back, I had to take a taxi from the airport because he wasn't there to pick me up like he said he would be. I'd been in the apartment for about ten minutes before I noticed the smell. At first, I thought it was coming from the kitchen, maybe something Alfred had left out that had then gone off. But it was coming from the living room; he'd fallen asleep and never woke up again, and the fire was still on. They said he died the day after I left. Probably wanted to do it in peace." Mrs Kiernan dabbed her eyes. "That's why I called you...well, the police. Because the smell coming from 14B was the same smell as when I came home. The smell of a corpse."

Spencer glanced at his notes. "You said that the apartment was leased to a Mr Sam Taylor."

"That's right."

"Did you meet him?"

"I did. Quiet young man. Tall, brown hair, that's all I can remember," Mrs Kiernan said.

"How tall?" Spencer asked, standing up. "My height? Taller? Shorter?"

 

Mrs Kiernan waved her hand at him. "About your height, yes."

Spencer smiled and hoped it didn't look too much like a grimace. "Thank you. When did Mr Taylor lease the apartment?"

"Early 2005, before Easter," Mrs Kiernan replied.

"What made you think of your husband when you saw Mr Taylor?" Jack asked suddenly.

Mrs Kiernan blinked several times in surprise. "His voice. Alfred may have been a lazy swine, but I could sit and listen to him talking for hours. Mr Taylor's voice was the same, very soft and gentle."

Jack nodded. "Thank you." He stood. "If we have any more questions, may we come back?"

"Yes. Yes, of course," Mrs Kiernan replied distractedly. She didn't stand.

Spencer took his cue from Jack, smiled and thanked the elderly lady, and left the apartment. "What was that all about?" he asked as they walked to the car, the journalists parting immediately for them.

"A hunch," Jack replied.

"A good one," Spencer complimented him. "So, what did you make of that?"

"Bloody waste of time. Come on, let's get back to the office."

NT-WtD-NT-WtD-NT-WtD

DC David Orr was enjoying a nice, quiet cigarette in a side alley when Gerry and Brian found him. He had just finished a late breakfast in his favourite greasy café and was now having desserts.

"Well, well, David Orr," Gerry said as they approached him. "Long time no see."

"Thought you'd be glad of that," Brian commented to his colleague.

Orr glared at them both. "Piss off."

Gerry frowned. "Now that's not very nice."

"What do you want?" Orr snapped.

"To have a nice little chat," Brian said, taking a step towards him.

Orr snorted. "You don't frighten me."

"No, but maybe we should explain a few things to you first, then if your tiny little brain understands all the big words I use, then you can tell us if we frighten you or not," Gerry replied, smiling.

Brian looked thoughtful. "David Orr, Detective Constable, suspended on suspicion of aggravated assault in 1983. Nothing came of it, but someone else was arrested and sent to jail for the crime. Suspended on suspicion of drug peddling in 1985. Same as before. Arrested for drink driving in 1988, almost killed a pedestrian at the same time, but nothing came of it."

"I thought you only memorised people's records?" Gerry asked.

Brian shrugged. "Wasn't much of a record to memorise."

"Nothing ever came of those charges," Orr told them.

"No, and we know why," Gerry replied quietly. "You see, we know the truth. That's our job, you see? Finding the truth. And we're very good at it."

"Very, very good at it," Brian added.

Orr looked from one to the other, saw they were telling the truth, and instantly deflated. "What do you want?" he asked, this time dejectedly.

"We want you to go to the Commissioner and tell him it was you who leaked that story to the scum at the rags," Gerry told him. "Tell him why you did it, and then ask him very nicely if he'll accept your early retirement."

"We're pretty certain he will," Brian said.

For a moment, Orr looked as though he was about to argue with them, protest his innocence, but he didn't. "Alright."

Brian leant in a peered at him. "Why are you still here? Don't you have some grovelling to do?"

"Chop, chop," Gerry added. After Orr had fled, he looked at his colleague. "Was it me or was that too easy?"

"Too bloody easy," Brian grumbled. "Come on, let's get back to the office. I could do with a brew."

NT-WtD-NT-WtD-NT-WtD

They pulled up outside Dean Hampton's door and Boyd climbed out of the car. But Grace stayed where she was, staring out through the windscreen at some unknown point in the distance. Boyd opened the passenger side door a crack.

"Aren't you coming?" he asked.

Slowly, Grace turned to face him. "Are you alright?"

Boyd blinked at the sudden question. "Of course. Why shouldn't I be?"

"You seem...different."

Carefully, he opened the door further and hunkered down next to her. "You mean I'm happy. It's a difficult thing to see in me, I realise that, and I do try to be like I was before, but it's not so easy when I see your face every day, reminding me what I've got to be thankful for." He covered her hand with his. "Would you like me to go back to how I was before?"

Grace smiled and rubbed her thumb over the back of his hand. "No, it's just that sometimes it seems odd to me. I guess I'm still adjusting as well."

Boyd lifted her hand to his lips. "I'd worry if things were perfect between us all the time." Slowly, he stood. "And we still have a job to do."

"Some things, I have noticed, don't change," Grace remarked dryly.

Boyd just flashed her a grin and helped her out of the car. As they both turned, they saw Dean Hampton stood in the front doorway watching them impassively. Neither missed a beat, taking his presence and the fact that he had probably just seen their interaction all in their stride.

"Mr Hampton, I'm Detective Superintendent Boyd, this is my colleague, Dr Foley," Boyd said as he walked up the path to meet the other man.

Hampton glanced at Boyd, then at Grace. "You're the one who called. It must have been somewhat awkward for you, to find out that I already knew my daughter's body had been found."

Grace simply nodded. "It's not the way I would have liked to have seen the situation handled, no."

"Come inside," Hampton said, turning and walking down his hallway.

As soon as she saw the man's back, Grace grabbed Boyd's hand. "Be very, very careful, Peter," she murmured quietly. "He's suffering from shock and I don't think it's just because of his daughter."

Boyd frowned. "What do you mean?"

"I'm not sure, but if I had to make an educated guess, I would say that he's still reeling from his wife's death."

"Grace, it was fifteen years ago!" Boyd protested quietly.

"If I ask you in fifteen years whether you've gotten over the death of your son, what will your answer be?" Grace asked, releasing his hand and entering the house before he had chance to answer.

"I understand what happened wasn't your fault," Hampton started once they were all sat in the living room.

"What do you mean, Mr Hampton?" Boyd asked politely.

"The leak about Lisa's body being found, all over the telly. I know it wasn't your fault personally. I know how these things work. Do you know who's responsible?"

Boyd nodded. "We do. And he is being taken care of, I can assure you."

"Good. Well, I know you have some questions for me but I don't know how much help I'll be. It was all such a long time ago," Hampton said.

"Fifteen years," Grace supplied quietly. "A long time to be alone."

Hampton shrugged. "Some people draw the lonely lot in life. It's the way things go."

Boyd glanced at Grace, silently asking what she was playing at, but she ignored him. "Mr Hampton, I'd like to start with the time leading up to Lisa's disappearance, if I could."

"Of course."

"Had her behaviour changed in any way? Was there any reason you can think of for her to just disappear like she did?"

Hampton shook his head. "Like I told the officers at the time, there was absolutely no reason I could think of for Lisa to just...vanish."

"Were you close?" Grace asked.

"Very. And her mother, Irene. There was just the three of us, we used to talk about everything. If there had been a problem, I would have known about it."

Grace stared at him. "You don't think your wife's death might have made you less observant?"

Boyd, in turn, stared at Grace, not believing his ears. But before he could get hold of the situation, Hampton replied, quite calmly. "No, Dr Foley, nothing except death could have made me so unobservant that I wouldn't have noticed something wrong with my daughter, especially because Lisa spent so much time here after Irene died. I freely admit I was a broken man; in many ways I still am. If it hadn't been for Lisa, I wouldn't have survived. People talk about dying from a broken heart, but only someone who has come close to it actually happening can tell you what it feels like."

"I understand," Boyd said quietly, and as Hampton met his gaze, he saw he did. "You said Lisa spent a lot of time with you after the death of your wife. How long would you say that was? A few hours every day? A few days a week?"

"She would spend days here, sometimes a week at a time," Hampton replied. "It was almost like she was a teenager living at home again because she would sleep and eat here."

"What about her daughter, Isabella?" Boyd asked.

A flash of pain crossed Hampton's face. "Izzy would stay at home with Jack, Lisa's husband. For some reason, Lisa rarely brought her here. I don't know why."

Boyd noted the tone and what the man had said – and not said – and stored it away for use at a later date. "Do you know where Jack Riggs is now? Or your granddaughter?"

"I'm sorry." Hampton stood suddenly and left the room.

Boyd looked at Grace and raised his eyebrows. She shook her head, her eyes telling him to sit and stay. Moments later, Hampton returned. "Are you alright?" she asked him gently.

He nodded. "I'm sorry," he repeated. "It's just that...well, I haven't seen Jack since a week or two after Lisa's disappearance. I said...I said some harsh and terrible things that day, things I wish I could take back but can't. The only contact I had with him wasn't even direct or personal. Some time later - I don't remember how long, perhaps a few months – I received an envelope from him. All it contained was the front door key to his and Lisa's house, which was something of a relief for me to get it."

"Why was that?" Boyd asked.

"Izzy was staying with me. Even though they talked about and gave Izzy his last name, Jack never got around to adopting Izzy, and so when Lisa vanished without a trace and Jack just upped and left, she came to stay with me," Hampton replied. "But of course all of her things were still at her house."

Boyd sat up in his chair. "Are you saying that you have no idea where Jack Riggs is, Mr Hampton?"

He shook his head. "None at all. I'm sorry."

"And your granddaughter?"

"We...we didn't get along," he admitted. "I don't know why, but with the death of her grandmother, and then the disappearance of her mother and the only man she ever knew as a father, all in such a short space of time..." He shrugged. "I don't know. There were never any problems before, we were a close family as I've told you, but Izzy seemed bitter, resentful. Of course, she was fifteen when all this happened, so perhaps teenage hormones were partly to blame. But as soon as she turned eighteen, she moved out and went travelling."

"How long for?" Boyd asked.

Hampton smiled thinly. "I'm expecting her back any time soon."

Boyd matched his expression. "Are you saying you have no idea where she is either?"

"I used to hear from her occasionally," Hampton admitted. "Postcards from all over the world; Australia, Siberia, Mongolia, Nepal, Portugal, Japan, France. And I did see her once or twice, up to her twenty first birthday. But after that...nothing."

"Didn't you file a missing persons report?" Grace asked, surprised that he didn't seem to have done.

"What for? Contact with Izzy carried on after that, but became sparser as the years rolled by. Postcards stopped being sent, phone calls only came at Christmas until one year, I just didn't hear from her. One year turned into two..." He shrugged. "You get the idea. Wherever she is, it's clear she doesn't want me in her life."

"How well did you get on with Jack Riggs?" Boyd inquired, steering the conversation in a different direction.

"You mean, did I have a problem with my daughter marrying someone almost ten years younger that her?" Hampton countered. "No, not really. Of course, at first we were surprised, but Izzy adored him and he was a good father. Lisa had nothing but praise for him, the boy had a good job. He wasn't perfect, no one is, and there is always some tension between fathers and son-in-laws, but in answer to your question, Superintendent Boyd, I got on fairly well with Jack."

Boyd nodded and glanced at Grace, who shook her head slightly. "Well, thank you for your time, Mr Hampton," he said, standing. "If we have any more questions..."

"...You'll be in touch and I'll be only too glad to answer them," Hampton finished.

"Goodbye, Mr Hampton," Grace said as they left the house.

"Well, what did you think?" Boyd asked as soon as they were in the car.

"Odd."

"What was?"

"I'm not sure exactly, but there was something about that whole meeting that was just...odd," Grace replied.

"Speaking of odd, what the hell were you playing at, Grace?" he asked suddenly. "What was with all the heavy-handedness?"

"Just a hunch, Boyd, I was playing out a hunch, like you do."

"Just because I do it..."

Grace held her hand up. "I'm not going to argue with you over this. It's done with, get over it. He didn't seem to mind, so where's the problem?"

Several retorts hovered on Boyd's lips, but he forced himself to swallow each and every one. "Let's get back to the office," was all he said.

TBC


	8. Clues

NT-WtD-NT-WtD-NT-WtD

"That..."

"...Was..."

"...An absolute..."

"...Bloody..."

"...Waste..."

"...Of time."

Sandra and Stella's heads both snapped up in surprise as they watched everyone file into the office, all speaking almost at once, all seemingly thinking the same thing. Jack and Spencer first, followed by Gerry and Brian, with Boyd and Grace bringing up the rear.

"So, find anything interesting?" Sandra asked after a beat.

"Depends on your definition of interesting," Jack replied, dropping into the nearest chair.

Boyd strode up to her and Stella immediately. "Did *you* find anything interesting?"

"Not a bloody thing," Sandra replied, grimly, shaking her head. "We have tried everything and it's like this guy doesn't exist!"

Stella looked at all her team mates. "I'll put coffee on."

"Best suggestion I've heard all morning," Gerry said with a smile.

"So," Grace started as she sat down, "Who wants to go first?"

"We will," Gerry replied. "I have the feeling it's the only good piece of news we're likely to hear today."

Brian was still standing as he was rearranging his part of the desk and he peered over the top of his glasses as the others. "DC David Orr will be taking early retirement, quite possibly effective immediately. What a shame."

"How was that a waste of time?" Spencer asked the two retired officers.

Gerry looked at him. "It was too easy."

"You got a result, though," Stella pointed it.

Brian sniffed. "It's the principle of the matter."

Jack turned to look at the young DC. "Leave it," he advised.

"What about you two?" Boyd asked Jack and Spencer.

"Apart from almost being decapitated by a frying pan?" the ex-DCI replied. "It was...almost interesting."

Grace leant forward. "How so?"

"Mrs Kiernan's apartment was fastidiously neat, which I know isn't a crime or an indication of guilt, but we were both thinking about Eve's suggestion that Lisa Riggs' apartment might have been staged and both me and Jack got the same impression from Mrs Kiernan's place as we did from 14B," Spencer replied.

"You think she's involved somehow, Spence?" Boyd asked, and his scepticism was kept to a minimum in his voice.

"I think it's something worth keeping in mind, that's all," the DI said. "Mrs Kiernan reiterated that she had never seen anyone going in or out of the apartment, but that someone kept paying the rent."

"She explained that when she knocked on the door to confront the tenant about the smell, she noticed it was the same smell as when her husband died," Jack continued, and explained about poor Alfred Kiernan. "Mrs Kiernan also remembered what Mr Sam Taylor looked like."

Sandra looked surprised. "Really? After, what, three years?"

"Early 2005, before Easter," Spencer interjected.

Jack nodded. "She remembered because our mysterious Mr Taylor had the same voice as her husband, soft and gentle."

"Well?" Boyd said impatiently. "What did he look like?"

Jack and Spencer exchanged a long glance before the DI replied. "About my height, brown hair. A quiet young man, she said."

Sandra threw her hands in the air. "Well that's just fantastic! She just described half the male population of London, at least."

Stella brought coffee over and sat unobtrusively by Spencer's side. "It does help a little," she said quietly. "If we come across someone during the course of the investigation who fits that description, they would immediately be a suspect. Wouldn't they?" She turned to Spencer for agreement but he was staring at Grace and Boyd, who were staring at each other in disbelief.

"What?" the DI demanded to know.

"Dean Hampton, Lisa's father, is about your height, Spence," Grace told him. "With brown hair."

"Yeah, but he isn't young and I wouldn't say his voice was soft or particularly gentle." Boyd stared at Grace. "Would you?"

She smiled. "Well..."

Boyd groaned. "Grace..."

"Alright, alright." She held her hands up and laughed. "No, I wouldn't say he has a particularly easy voice to listen to."

"But still," Sandra said, leaning forward on the desk. "He fits at least part of the description. He could have easily made himself look younger and disguised his voice."

"It's one description, Sandra, and personally, I wouldn't put Mrs Kiernan as a very credible witness right now!" Boyd replied.

"Why?" Grace asked sharply. "Because she's old?"

"No, he's right," Jack replied. "She was more worried about her business than the death of one of her tenants. I would suggest we wait for more information before we start accusing people."

Before the discussion could elevate into an argument, Eve burst through the doors waving a piece of paper around and looking triumphant. "I've got something that's going to make you all happy," she said with a grin, which faded slightly when she took in their expressions. "And I think you all need it."

"What is it?" Gerry asked before anyone else got chance.

"A fingerprint, and a good one at that."

"Name?" Brian asked in interest.

Eve smiled apologetically. "Ah, well, that's where the good news ends, I'm afraid. I'm running it through the database at the moment, and you know how long that could take, if the owner of this print is even on there."

Sandra fixed Boyd with a stare. "Why don't we go and print Hampton?" she suggested. "If he's clean, we can eliminate him. If not..."

Boyd shook his head firmly. "You can't just go and demand fingerprints from him."

"We don't have to," Grace joined in. "If he's been in the apartment, we can say we need his prints to eliminate him from our enquiries."

Boyd stared at her in surprise. "Whose side are you on?"

Grace blinked in surprise. "I'm on the side of the truth, Boyd," she replied flatly. "Whose side are *you* on?"

"The same one, but you can't trick a person into giving up their fingerprints!" he replied, his voice rising.

Gerry spoke up. "He's right," he said, echoing Jack's words from a few moments before. "We can't eliminate him from our enquiries unless we're absolutely sure he's innocent, and we don't know that yet. If we trap him like this, and it ends up going to court, his lawyers will have a field day with us. No, let's wait a while first, see if the database turns anything up."

"Have you got the toxicology report back yet?" Jack asked Eve.

She shook her head. "And without anything else to go on..." She shrugged. "I'm not going to be much help, I'm afraid."

Boyd ran a hand through his hair and started to pace. "Have you got everything from Lisa Riggs' apartment sent over?"

Eve glared at him. "Boyd, it would take me..."

"Take Stella," he suggested firmly. "And one of Sandra's team, but not Gerry."

"Actually, he's a good assistant in the lab," Eve said in his defence. "Very professional."

Boyd waved her comment aside. "Fine, fine, take him. Just find us something to go on!"

"Can't we have dinner first?" Brian asked.

Stella frowned. "What?"

"He means lunch," Jack replied, rolling his eyes. "And I think it's a very good idea."

"Fine, fine," Boyd repeated.

"Pub?" Sandra suggested.

Gerry grinned. "I thought you'd never ask."

As Brian stood to leave, his expression suddenly changed. "You go on, I'll catch up."

"This was your idea, breaking for lunch," Grace reminded him.

"I know, but I've had another idea, a better one," he replied, his eyes bright with enthusiasm for his job.

Jack, Gerry and Sandra all looked at each other. "God save us," Jack muttered as they left.

TBC


	9. Breakthrough

NT-WtD-NT-WtD-NT-WtD

Over a rather animated lunch, Boyd and Grace made up, much to the amusement of all because they were trying too hard not to kiss in front of them all. Boyd and Sandra also made up, although there was definitely no kissing going on there. But as everyone watched, one or two of them – or perhaps all of them – knew that the truce between the two DSIs was not going to last for long. They were far too similar in their mannerisms, their approach to work, their tempers...hell, they could be brother and sister the way they acted at times, too similar to be a good thing, but as long as they were trying to be reasonable, the others couldn't ask for much more.

"I know what you're saying, but that doesn't necessarily mean that...," Sandra was saying to Boyd as they entered the office after lunch, but she stopped abruptly. "What?"

Brian was sat with his hands clasped over his stomach, grinning like the cat that not only got the cream, but the entire cream-producing factory. "Nothing," he replied airily. "Good lunch?"

"God help us, he's found something and he doesn't want to share," Jack muttered.

Stella nodded in agreement. "He does look smug, doesn't he?"

"With good reason, my young friend," Brian replied.

Sandra rolled her eyes and sat down. She waited for everyone else to take their seats before saying, "All right, Brian, go on."

The ex-DI stood up and rounded his desk. "On many cases like this - old and cold ones, I mean - we have trouble finding people from the original case because they're either dead, have moved, or changed their name."

"If this is going to turn into a lecture, shout me when it's all over," Boyd grumbled and made to leave, but Grace grabbed his hand and pulled back down to his seat.

Brian glanced over his glasses, pushed them up his nose, and continued. "Quite often, the moving and changing of name are linked, usually because people have got married."

"You *are* going somewhere with this, aren't you?" Gerry asked.

"Yes, I am, and I'll get there a lot quicker if you stop interrupting," Brian retorted.

Spencer grinned. "That told you."

"*As* I was saying," Brian continued loudly, "We have trouble finding people. We've tracked them down through various ways before now, such as Interpol or the DVLA, but in the case of Jack Riggs, we've come up with absolutely nothing. So far."

Sandra studied her colleague. "Go on, Brian, astound us with what you know."

"I've tracked him down," he replied.

Boyd let out an incredulous laugh while Stella swore in French and Gerry whistled. "How did you manage that?" Boyd asked, shaking his head.

"I looked for flights leaving the country up to two months after the murder."

"Why only two months?" Stella asked.

"Because if you've got something to hide...," Gerry started.

"Or something to fear," Jack added.

Gerry nodded. "...You're not going to wait around too long before disappearing."

"So where is he, Brian?" Sandra asked, steering the conversation back to the case.

"A one way ticket to Portugal was bought by a Mr Jack T. Riggs on the 14th of November, 1991, which was six weeks after the murder," Brian replied. "And I've checked all flights from Portugal back to the UK since then. He's never returned."

"How do you know he didn't go somewhere else once he got to Portugal?" Boyd asked.

Sandra, Jack and Grace all rolled their eyes, while Gerry chuckled and Spencer shook his head. Brian glared.

Jack looked at Boyd and then Sandra. "You know we're going to need to question him."

Sandra smiled. "Trip abroad. What could be more fun?"

"Ah, but who gets to go?" Grace asked, getting up to pour coffee.

"I think Brian should be one of the officers to go," Boyd said, smiling as well. "After all, it was him who cracked this part of the case for us."

"Thanks, but no thanks," Brian replied.

Grace looked at him and laughed. "Why on Earth not?"

"I'm a Northerner. I'm allergic to the sun; we don't see enough of it develop any kind of tolerance. Plus I don't think Esther would like me being away..."

Sandra held her hand up. "Alright, Brian, we get the idea."

"Don't look at me," Jack said, shaking his head. "I don't do flying."

"I'll go," Gerry volunteered.

"No," came the reply from both Boyd and Sandra, making Gerry glare and sulk.

"I'd rather not go," Stella said. "It's a European thing."

"I thought the French didn't like the Spanish, not the Portuguese?" Jack asked.

Stella shrugged. "Portuguese, Spanish, same thing."

"I wouldn't say that to them," Brian muttered.

"Great, that just leaves me, you, Spence and Grace," Sandra told Boyd.

"And Eve," Grace added.

Eve shook her head. "Too much sun for me. Not enough dead bodies."

"True," Grace replied, smiling, then she looked from Sandra to Boyd. "One of you two needs to go. And if I go with Boyd, I doubt we'll get much in the line of work done."

"Grace!" Boyd protested.

She looked at him innocently. "What?"

"Alright, how about me and Spence then?" Sandra suggested, glancing sideways at the DI.

Spencer merely shrugged. "I'm game if you are." He looked at Boyd. "How long do we get, boss?"

"As few days as possible, Spence," Boyd rumbled in reply. "It isn't a holiday."

"Few days in the sun," Gerry remarked. "Of course it is."

"Hang on," Jack said suddenly, holding his hand up. "Do you know *exactly* where Mr Riggs is? Portugal is an awfully big place to do a door-to-door search."

Brian glared over the top of his glasses at his colleague. "I knew someone would ask such a question, and the answer is yes, I do, actually."

"Alright, Brian, astound us with your knowledge," Sandra said, leaning back in her chair.

"Mr Riggs flew into Faro airport on the 14th of November 1991..."

"Hold up," Gerry interrupted, holding his hand up. "I thought you said Riggs *bought* the ticket on the 14th."

Brian held his gaze. "I did."

"Then how...? Oh."

Eve patted him on the arm. "Don't worry, it's not your fault."

"He bought a one way ticket and flew out the same day, Gerry," Brian told his friend. "Does that help?"

"Alright, don't rub it in. Carry on."

"You're too kind," Brian murmured. "So, knowing he flew into southern Portugal I decided to check the phone directories, which you can do on the internet now."

Grace stared at the ex-DI. "You didn't find him that way, did you?"

He smiled and nodded. "I did indeed."

"Where is he?" Stella asked curiously.

"In a small village about half an hour from Faro, called Mon-cara-pach-o," Brian said carefully.

"Moncarapacho," the young DC pronounced properly. "The last 'o' is silent."

"Are you sure you don't want to go instead?" Spencer asked her.

She shook her head quickly. "Too Mediterranean for me."

Grace held her hands up to everyone. "Don't ask."

"Don't worry, we weren't," Sandra replied.

"And I take it you've pinpointed his exact location," Boyd stated.

Brian nodded again. "I have. Everything is right here." He tapped a small stack of paper on his desk.

"When do you want us to leave?" Sandra asked Boyd, publicly deferring to him as the leader of the two teams.

"As soon as possible."

"I can get you on a flight tomorrow," Brian told them. "I just need your passport numbers."

With a flourish, Sandra produced hers from her handbag. "Ta-dah!"

Boyd glanced to his left. "Spence?"

"Mine's at home, of course."

"Well what are you waiting for? Go and get it!" Boyd ordered him.

"So, is there anything you want while we're away?" Sandra asked jokingly.

"Duty free cigarettes," Gerry and Eve replied together.

"Oh, and a fingerprint from Mr Riggs if you can manage it," the pathologist added with a smile.

Boyd looked at her. "Eve," he said in a warning tone.

She held her hands up. "I was joking, Boyd. Relax."

"Don't swear at him," Grace said.

"I'm going to get my passport." Spencer stood.

Boyd looked at him in surprise. "Are you still here?"

"What do you want us to do now?" Jack asked.

"Perform the same miracle and find me Isabella Riggs and Sam Taylor!"

TBC


	10. Downtime

NT-WtD-NT-WtD-NT-WtD

"Here we go," Gerry said, setting a plate down in front of Eve.

The pathologist stared at it, open-mouthed. "Am I supposed to eat that?" she asked.

"Why? What's wrong with it?" Gerry replied, sitting down opposite her.

"It looks so...perfect," she said. "I feel like eating it would be a crime."

He smiled. "Don't be daft. Come on, eat up before it gets cold."

"Mmm, this is delicious!" Eve exclaimed after the first mouthful.

"You sound surprised., though after so long of eating my cooking, you shouldn't be."

"No, you're right, I shouldn't be."

Gerry stopped, the fork halfway to his mouth, at her tone. It had changed from light, almost playful, to melancholy, almost wistful. "What?"

"Nothing."

"That isn't nothing."

Eve looked at him. "You don't want to talk about this, not right now." She sipped her drink. "Knowing you, probably never."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Gerry asked, frowning.

"Nothing. Just forget it, okay?"

But he couldn't. The rest of the meal was spent in silence, which gave Gerry plenty of time to contemplate Eve's words, and to watch the expressions that flitted across her face. They had been having a few problems lately, which he knew was bound to happen sooner or later with his track record, but everything had been fine that day. They had spent the afternoon in the lab together, along with Stella, working through all the evidence, and their relationship couldn't have been better. But it was clear something had changed, and he was certain it had happened in the last half hour or less. As soon as they had finished eating, Eve stood up and reached across the table for his plate, but Gerry caught her hand gently.

"Tell me," he said, and she could tell with the look on his face that he wasn't going to take 'no' for an answer.

Sighing, she sat back down. "Where are we going?" she asked quietly, looking him square in the eyes.

Gerry opened his mouth to say, 'what do you mean?' but he closed it again when he realised he knew. "I don't know," he replied honestly. "You know my history with...well, with relationships..."

"And marriage," Eve added, and to him, her tone sounded almost bitter. "Yes, I know. But..." She took a deep breath. "Here's the thing: I really like you."

Gerry squeezed her hand across the table. "I really like you as well."

"But I love you like you."

It was like an elephant had just stampeded into the room and was now standing quietly between them, looking from one to the other, waiting for the silence to be broken. Eve was surprised she had spoken those words, knowing that it was some form of commitment, and that Gerry generally ran from the 'C' word as fast as he could in the opposite direction. They had agreed to keep things casual between them, although both knew it had grown into a serious casual very quickly. But love? Eve didn't know when that had happened but as soon as she had spoken the words, she knew it was true.

But Gerry was silent, looking at her as though he had never seen her before, and she knew what was going though his head: *Runaway! Runaway!* With a heavy sigh, and knowing she wouldn't be staying there that night, or maybe ever again, Eve rose again.

Gerry knew what she was thinking, that his silence was a form of panic, and in a way it was, but not for the reasons Eve thought. It was panic because he realised that, upon hearing those words, he felt the same. He had heard 'I love you' before, and he had said it enough times, but now, with a lifetime's worth of experiences behind him, Gerry found his was actually *in* love, and with someone from work, no less. And it scared him because she was about to walk out of his door and possibly his personal life for good. He had been silence because his revelation had shocked him, not because of what she said.

Rising and striding across the room, Gerry put his hand on the front door just as Eve opened it. "No," he said quietly. "Stay."

When she didn't move, he took hold of her shoulders gently and turned around to face him. Without speaking, he put his finger under her chin and lifted her face. As their eyes met, words weren't necessary; Eve's face registered incredulity when she saw the sincerity shining in Gerry's eyes, and then she started crying with relief that he felt the same.

"Now what?" she asked him between sobs.

Gerry smiled at her. "I have no idea, but I'm pretty sure we'll figure it out as we go along. So, are you staying?"

Eve nodded and put her palm against his cheek. "I'm staying."

"Good." He kissed her. "Since I cooked, you can wash up."

NT-WtD-NT-WtD-NT-WtD

Chris stared at Sandra in surprise. "You're going away?"

They were in Chris' house, dining on takeaway brought around by Sandra. They hadn't seen much of each other recently, due to work commitments on both sides, but their cosy evening had took a downturn when she told him about the lead and what it meant for her.

"It's only for a couple of days," Sandra replied around a mouthful of food, not noticing the expression on her partner's face.

"To Portugal."

The tone of voice he was using registered, however, and she looked up. "It's not like I'm going to Australia, Chris," she said in exasperation. "It's only a couple of hours away by plane. Three days at the most."

"With a *colleague*."

Sandra swallowed heavily and stared at him. "*Excuse* me?"

Chris ran a hand through his hair and pushed his chair forcefully away from the table. "We've hardly seen each other for weeks, Sandra."

"We both agreed our work comes first," she reminded him.

"I know, but... This isn't working, for me."

"Why? Because I'm going away on a work trip for a couple of days?" she asked incredulously.

"With another guy!" Chris exclaimed.

Silence descended heavily as the couple glared at each other across the table, Sandra trying to process what was happening, Chris not willing to retract his statement, which bordered on an accusation in the DSI's eyes.

"You don't trust me," Sandra said, her voice flat and her eyes narrowing dangerously.

But Chris held her gaze. "All of a sudden I don't see you. You never call me any more in an evening, and when I phone you, you're always busy. And now you're going away. What am I supposed to think?"

"You're supposed to trust me!" Sandra yelled. "Isn't that what this...this relationship thing is supposed to be about?"

"How can I trust you when I never see you?" Chris retorted.

Sandra stood abruptly. "I can't do this," she said, her voice cracking a little.

"Is this your answer, then?" he asked, rising as well. "Running away?"

His answer was a slammed door.

NT-WtD-NT-WtD-NT-WtD

Boyd took his glasses off and sighed. "Alright, what's wrong?"

Grace looked up from the book she was reading. "Hmm?"

"Don't play games, Grace," Boyd told her. "You've been wearing that face for hours now."

"It's my face, Boyd, I thought you would have realised that by now."

"I know that, but right now, it says 'I'm not happy'."

"If you don't know why, I'm not telling you," Grace replied, returning her attention to her book.

Boyd stared at her bowed head. "And I'm not playing that game either. I thought we agreed we weren't going to do that with each other? If I'm asking, it means I genuinely don't know what's wrong with you."

Grace sighed and looked up again, knowing he wouldn't let it lie. "Never ask me what side I'm on again, Boyd."

He blinked in surprise. "What? I thought we sorted all that out at lunchtime."

"We did. But then you spent the afternoon joking with the others about how many different ways you could get a fingerprint from Jack Riggs."

"It was only joking, Grace," he replied defensively. "Sandra and Spencer know that if they *did* pull a print from him illegally, and it tied in with the case, we couldn't use that information."

"You've done the same before," Grace told him. "Why is this different?"

"You're always telling me to do things by the book, Grace!" Boyd exclaimed, his voice rising. "Why do you want me to go back to breaking the rules now? We don't have to prove anything to anyone this time. Yes, a result is needed, and a quick one at that, but if we get an arrest from an illegally attained piece of evidence, the Commissioner will hang us all out to dry by our bloody toes!"

"If Sandra is willing to take that risk, why aren't you?" Grace demanded to know.

"Why have you decided that Jack Riggs is guilty? Do you know something I don't?"

"I haven't decided that at all, Boyd, don't be ridiculous," she replied scornfully.

"Really? It sounds a lot like that to me, Grace!"

"Don't shout at me!"

Boyd looked at her. "You're being unreasonable, and you're telling me not to shout! You started this!"

"Oh, that's very grown up, Boyd!" Grace yelled back.

"Do the words 'pot', 'kettle' and 'black' mean anything to you?" he asked incredulously.

"Get out, Boyd! Just go home!"

He froze, shocked. They'd had their fair share of arguments within their relationship, removed from their professional capacity of course, but this was different. It seemed to Boyd that Grace had deliberately brought work into the discussion, using it as an excuse to rail at him for something else, some obscure reason she obviously didn't want to share. For a moment he was tempted to just grab his shoes and storm out, but that would only fuel her claim that he was childish.

Folding his arms across his chest, Boyd sat back on the couch and replied, "No."

Grace stared at him. "What?"

"I said no. Whatever this is about, it isn't work. You're just using that, after we agreed to leave work in the office!" he told her. "So I'm staying right here and we're going to work this out."

"Peter Boyd, the voice of reason," Grace said, laughing, though the sound was harsh. "I don't want you to stay."

"I don't want to leave, and this might be your house, but you're my partner and I care about you. I'm not leaving until you tell me what's wrong, what's really wrong."

"Fine." Grace stood, book tucked under one arm. "Enjoy your night on the couch."

As he watched her leave the room, Boyd ran over the events of the afternoon in his mind, trying to find something that might have upset her. They had been on excellent terms when they returned from lunch, and he even remembered her joining in the joking about the fingerprints, so he knew that wasn't the real reason. Then Spencer had finally returned with his passport, and there had been more joking about him and Sandra going away together. The others started talking about holidays and....

Boyd groaned, closed his eyes, and leant his head back on the couch, then banged it against the soft material a few times. He was an idiot. Running a hand through his hair, then dragging it over his face, he wondered, not for the first time, if this relationship thing was really worth it. Then Grace's face swam in his vision and he knew the answer to it. Hauling his body wearily off the couch, Boyd trudged upstairs. As he guessed, Grace was already in bed, not asleep though pretending to be.

"I would love to go on holiday with you at some time," he said quietly after he had laid down on top of the covers behind her. "When I said there was no chance of us going anywhere together except home and work...I didn't mean it. I thought you knew that. I'm not sure about any of these warm countries, though - not even sure about going to Wales – but...."

"That must be a record for you," Grace replied, and he could tell from her voice that she had been crying.

"What?"

"It took you less than ten minutes to figure out what was wrong."

"I didn't, I just took a lucky guess," Boyd said, smiling.

That comment earned him an elbow in the ribs before Grace turned to face him. "I'm sorry."

"I'll let you off. This time. Don't do it again, though." Then he kissed her cheek.

"Your nose is cold," she said.

"That's because it's cold out here."

"Why are you out there? Get into bed."

Rolling his eyes, Boyd rolled off the bed to get changed. "Yes, Grace."

TBC


	11. Building

NT-WtD-NT-WtD-NT-WtD

When Spencer walked into the bullpen the next day, the atmosphere was so cloyingly happy and loved up that he half expected to see flowers painted all over the walls and incense burning all over the place. Well, there was the incense but it was only to mask the smell from Eve and Gerry smoking in a corner.

"Boyd will have your arse for smoking in here," Spencer told the pathologist.

"He'd better not, it's mine," Gerry replied possessively.

"I don't want it, I've got my own, thank you," Boyd said, coming out of his office. It was obvious, however, that he wasn't talking about his own personal behind; his eyes were trained on Grace's, who had walked out in front of him.

"If we're going to have to put up with this behaviour all day, I'm going home again," Jack muttered, having just walked into the office.

Eve shook her head. "Honestly, there's no pleasing some people. You hate it when we fight, you hate it when we're nice to each other. Make up your minds!"

Spencer smiled at her. "There's being nice to each other and then being so loved up you can practically taste it."

"Morning, Brian," Gerry said as the ex-DI entered the squad room. All he received in reply was a grunt and he looked at the others in surprise. "Was it something I said?"

Jack frowned. "Alright, Brian?" Another grunt. "Fair enough. Good morning, Stella."

"Morning," the young DC murmured, her head bent, not meeting anyone's gaze.

"I'd give up, if I were you, boys," Grace told Gerry and Jack.

Jack nodded. "I think you're right."

"Good morning, Sandra," Boyd said with a smile as the other superintendent came in, obviously having ignored Grace's advice, as usual.

She stopped in the doors and looked around the room before her gaze finally landed on him, and when it did, her eyes narrowed and her expression became one of pure fury. "Good? *Good*? Please tell me what's 'good' about it," she snapped.

"I think there's something in the air," Eve remarked quietly, but loud enough for everyone to hear.

Sandra glared at her. "And we can do without the sarcastic remarks, thank you very much, Dr Lockhart." She returned her attention to Boyd. "Why is everyone sat around doing nothing?" she asked him. "In case you've forgotten, this is a priority case!"

Both teams held their collective breath as they waited for Boyd to explode. Unfortunately, they were sorely disappointed as he replied in a calm voice, "We've all only just arrived and I thought I would wait for you to get here before deciding on the best plan of action because in case *you've* forgotten, you and Spence are getting on a plane this afternoon."

"No, I haven't forgotten, and I don't need you or anyone to remind me!" Sandra shouted back.

Jack, frowning, stood up and walked over to her. "Are you alright?" he asked in a quiet voice.

"Never better." She glared at Boyd. "Get this lot working or I will!"

"Eve, have you finished processing everything from Lisa Riggs' flat?" Boyd asked, staring back at Sandra while he talked.

"No," the scientist replied.

"Then get a move on, and take Stella."

"But, sir...," Stella started to protest, looking at Spencer.

"It isn't up for debate, DC Goodman," Boyd told her, his eyes still locked with Sandra's. "Gerry, Jack and Brian, I want you three to continue checking on Sam Taylor. Spence, you, Sandra and I will work on finding Isabella Riggs. Grace, I want a profile for the father, Dean Hampton."

"Is he a suspect now?" Grace asked before she could stop herself.

Boyd's gaze diverted momentarily, slowly locking with hers before going back to staring at Sandra. "I want a profile on everyone involved in this case, unless you've got something better to do?"

"Nothing at all," she replied, quietly making her way into the sanctuary of her office.

Work began in silence, which continued for a few hours, only broken when a phone call pertaining to the enquiry needed to be made. But Sandra's telephone manner was just as bad as in person, and as lunch time approached, Boyd snapped.

"My office, now," he told her firmly.

"Don't...," Sandra started to say, but she never got any further. Before the door had closed properly, Boyd was speaking rather loudly.

"I don't give a shit what is happening in your personal life, Pullman, but the minute it starts to interfere with your professionalism, it becomes my concern!" he told her. "If you have issues, deal with them, but leave them outside of the work place!"

"Do the words 'pot', 'kettle' and 'black' mean anything to you?" she asked sarcastically.

"Do the words 'off this investigation' mean anything to *you*?" Boyd snapped back. "You're going abroad in a few hours to interview a man who's a possible murder suspect, and even if he isn't, you have to tell him the woman he was once married to has turned up dead under suspicious circumstances. Get your head together or I'll send someone else!"

"Screw you, Boyd!" Sandra snapped, storming out of his office, out of the squad room and down the corridor, presumably carrying on all the way out of the building.

Boyd could feel his temper rising rapidly and he forced himself to look out into the squad room at the faces of the others, expecting them to be glaring accusingly at him. However, all four men looked shocked at Sandra's behaviour, not at Boyd's.

"I don't know what's got into her today," Jack said, shaking his head.

"Yeah, I've never seen her like this," Gerry agreed before looking at Boyd. "It's not your fault, sir. You were in the right."

Boyd, however, was looking towards Grace's office and the expression on the profiler's face was completely contradictory to what the ex-DS had just said. "Perhaps."

Brian muttered something and looked back down at the desk. Jack sighed and turned to him. "Alright, I've had enough. What on earth is the matter with you today? It's bad enough with Sandra going off on one without you as well."

"Nothing," Brian replied.

"Nothing my arse," Gerry said. "Come on, spill."

"It's just something Esther said last night, that's all," Brian told them eventually.

Spencer looked at him. "Which was...?"

Brian sighed. "She said she thought it was a wonderful idea that I went to Portugal since I was the one who found Riggs. And then when I said I wasn't going, she...well, she looked disappointed."

Boyd found his bad mood evaporating quickly. "Maybe she thought the change of scenery would do you good," he suggested.

Gerry chuckled. "More likely she just wanted to get rid of him for a few days," he said, and Jack started to laugh as well.

"I'm glad to see you're all working hard," Grace said mildly, startling them all. Before anyone could speak, she looked at Boyd. "I'm going round to Sandra's. I'll take her to the airport."

"Jack offered to take them both," Boyd reminded her.

Grace stared at him and then walked back to her office. Understanding the silent summons, he followed. "Something's going on with Sandra, Peter," she told him. "And while I understand why you blew up earlier, she needs some gentle handling and an ounce of understanding because otherwise, she won't be able to do her job properly."

"And I need her to be a police officer, not a woman with issues," Boyd replied quietly.

"She's both. Get used to it." Grace held her hand up, hovering it close to his chest without actually touching him. "I'm going. End of story."

"What about Spence?" Boyd asked.

Grace smiled. "Suggest that Stella takes him."

"Why?"

"Just do it, Boyd," Grace replied with a sigh. "Trust me."

"Alright, alright. You will be back later, I take it." It was an order, not a question.

"Perhaps." With that, she was gone.

Five minutes later, Eve and Stella burst into the squad room looking incredibly pleased with themselves. "Lisa Riggs' toxicology report is back and it seems she had an unusual level of benzodizaepine in her system, which, as we all know, is one of the primary ingredients of sleeping pills."

"An overdose?" Spencer suggested.

Stella nodded happily. "That's what we thought. Where's Grace?" she asked suddenly, looking around.

"Out," Boyd answered shortly. "Anything else?"

"Yes," Eve said. "The fingerprint threw up a match."

"Sam Taylor?" Jack suggested.

"Dean Hampton?" Brian asked.

"Jack Riggs?" Gerry added.

"And the third stooge has it," Eve replied, grinning.

While Gerry scowled at her, Boyd stared in surprise. "Riggs? You're sure?"

Eve rolled her eyes. "Yes, Boyd, I'm positive. His prints were taken years ago, on card, to eliminate him from a robbery case, and it seems they've put a lot of the card prints onto the database, so..."

"Are you certain he's never been back?" Boyd asked Brian, interrupting Eve before she could finish.

Brian nodded. "Positive."

"Unless...," Gerry said.

"Jack Riggs is also known as Sam Taylor," Jack suggested.

"That's one theory," Spencer said.

Boyd folded his arms across his chest and stared intensely at a spot on the wall. "Stella, I want you to take Spence back to his place, wait with him while he packs...."

"Who says I haven't already?" the DI asked indignantly.

"Because you're a man and you always leave things 'til the last minute." This statement was not uttered by Eve or Stella, as one might expect, but by Jack, who shrugged when everyone looked at him. "What?"

"...And then take him to the airport," Boyd finished.

Stella tried not to look too overjoyed at that. "Yes, sir."

"Spence, a word." Boyd went into his office, not bothering to wait for his underling to follow. When he heard the door shut, he started to speak without turning. "I want you to tread carefully with Sandra while she's away. Grace seems to think she has...issues, which she isn't dealing with, and I don't want her clouded judgement interfering with this investigation. If she bites your head off, try not to retaliate." He smiled, knowing Spencer could see him. "I know that will be difficult."

"I'll manage, sir," the DI replied.

Boyd turned. "I know you will."

"At least we don't need a fingerprint from Riggs now," he said with a smile.

"Play this one by the book, Spence," Boyd told him. "I know that isn't how we normally do things around here, but this time..."

The DI nodded. "Understood, sir. And I'll make sure DSI Pullman plays by the rules too."

"Just don't piss her off," Boyd said, and Spencer grinned. "Now get out of here. See you in a few days."

"Is it me, or did Stella seem just a little too happy about that job?" Gerry asked as the two junior officers left the squad room.

Eve patted his arm. "For once, it isn't just you."

Boyd groaned. "I don't want to hear this!"

"That makes two of us," Jack muttered.

Gerry clapped his hands together. "Lunch time."

"That's very kind of you, Gerry," Brian said.

"What?"

"Offering to pay."

"I never..."

"Standard rules," Eve reminded him. "If you bring lunch up, you have to pay for it."

Gerry scowled. "Alright," he grumbled. "Who's going then?"

"Bring me something back," Boyd replied, walking back into his office.

Jack made to grab his coat, but changed his mind. "I'll stay as well. If we don't find either Sam Taylor or Isabella Riggs soon, the Commissioner's temper will make Sandra's look like a picnic by comparison."

"You sure?" Gerry asked.

Jack glanced at Boyd's office. "Yeah." The ex-DS nodded in understanding. "Bring me something back as well, will you?"

"What do you want?"

"Fish and chips!" Boyd yelled.

Jack smiled. "Twice."

 

Gerry rolled his eyes. "Alright. Come on, you two."  
After a few moments, Jack walked into Boyd's office and sat down on the couch. "I'm not going to ask if you want to talk about it," he said. "But stewing over whatever's pissed you off isn't going to do any of us any good. This case is shit, we have no evidence whatsoever to go on, and the Commissioner wants it done yesterday. But there's something more."

Boyd looked up and took his glasses off. "If I ignore you, will you go away?"

"No."

"I thought not. Drink?"

"Why not?"  
Boyd poured two small measures of whisky and rounded the desk to hand one to Jack. "Normally Grace is the voice of reason while I rush off into the deep end like a bull in a china shop. But lately..."

"Role reversal. Happens in our team a lot, don't worry about it," Jack replied.

"Really?"

"Of course. At one time or another, one of us has gotten so involved in a case that nothing else matters to us, not even the right result. We've all done it, every single one of us who calls themselves a police officer and who cares about their job."

"And Sandra's behaviour?" Boyd asked.

"She isn't used to taking orders, as you know, but this..." Jack shook his head. "Today that was something else. It can't be her mother, rest her soul, so the only thing I can think of is Chris."

"Her boyfriend?"

Jack nodded. "Though if it is him, this is their first argument since they've been together."

Boyd grunted. "You worry when they argue, my team worries when me and Grace *don't* argue." He sipped his drink. "What about this case? Sandra seems to be wanting to get a result any which way possible."

"I've noticed. And again, we all cut corners sometimes."

"Some of us more than others," Boyd said dryly. "Meaning me."

Jack smiled. "Yes. I got that."

"But with Sandra, this seems..."

"Personal."

"Why?"

"No idea, and that worries me." Jack sighed. "Sending her to Portugal might not be the best idea in the world."

"And keeping her here might be just as bad," Boyd replied. "She might just decide to go and arrest Hampton as the murderer and Mrs Kiernan as an accomplice." They were both silent for a while as they thought that one over, then they both chuckled. But Boyd soon continued seriously. "If I needed back up on this case, on a decision...."

Jack held his hand up. "It would depend entirely on the decision. Don't get me wrong, Boyd, my loyalties lie with Sandra first because I've known her a long time and technically, she is my boss, just like your team's loyalties lie with you. But at the end of the day, it's the right result that counts, and doing the job for the right reason. If I thought Sandra was out of line, I wouldn't defend her."

Boyd nodded. "That's all I needed to know."

NT-WtD-NT-WtD-NT-WtD

"I mean, who the hell does he think he is, lecturing me on the rules and regulations?" Sandra stormed as she threw things into her suitcase.

Grace sat silently and watched her, a glass of wine held casually in one hand. So far, the case had been packed and unpacked seven times, that the profiler knew of. How many times the actions had been performed before she arrived was unclear.

"Boyd can be...," she stared to say.

"Obnoxious, arrogant, chauvinistic, bastard, hypocritical?" Sandra supplied.

Grace smiled. "All the above and more."

"Grace, I'm sorry, I forgot that the two of you are..."

"Involved?"

"Exactly."

"Don't worry, you haven't said anything I haven't said to him myself on more than one occasion," Grace replied.

"He just makes things so difficult!" Sandra said, throwing a pair of shoes angrily into the case, which merely hiccuped in response.

"I think it's part of his job description," Grace replied, taking a sip of her wine. "And Chris?"

"Stubborn, stupid, idiotic, bastard..."

"That's Boyd again."

Both women laughed and Sandra sat heavily on the edge of the bed. "Something about this case doesn't sit right with me at all, and I think Riggs is involved up to his neck, not just because of his relationship with Lisa, but with her murder and Isabella's disappearance."

"We have no evidence to go on."

"I bet we could find something in his house, while we're there," Sandra said. It was delivered in a casual tone, but Grace knew she was seriously considering it.

"It's possible, but fourteen years is a long time," she replied carefully.

"Grace, I know Boyd is your partner and your superior officer, but if I wanted to run with a lead he didn't agree with..."

"Would I support you? If I agreed with your decision, yes," Grace replied before Sandra could finish.

The younger woman nodded. "That's all I wanted to know. Thanks."

TBC


	12. Abroad

NT-WtD-NT-WtD-NT-WtD

The sun was shining brightly in a clear blue sky when Sandra and Spencer landed at Faro International Airport. As they disembarked the plane, both looked with raised eyebrows at the buses that were to ferry them to the terminal, and each almost made a dry comment, then remembered they still weren't speaking to each other. They had met at London's Heathrow Airport, not uttered a word of greeting, and there had been silence ever since. Spencer didn't want to upset Sandra, so he opted to keep quiet, and Sandra wanted to apologise but just didn't know how. She had spoken to Grace quietly when the older woman dropped her off at the airport, and embraced her fondly when they parted. It was nice to have a friend and an ally within the community, someone who was almost a mother figure to her. It was agreed that Grace would pick Sandra up from the airport and that she would send someone else for Spencer; they both decided there would be a lot to talk about. Privately. But that worked out fine for Spencer; Stella had readily offered to collect him and he hadn't seen any reason to say no. They had spent an enjoyable couple of hours together while he packed and she entertained him, and he began to wonder if there was something there that wasn't there before.

A taxi took them from the airport to the car hire place, only a couple of minutes down the road, and soon they were shown to their new, standard silver coloured hire vehicle. Sandra took one look at the left hand drive and then turned to Spencer.

"Do you want to drive?" she asked him mildly, dangling the key in front of him.

He smiled back, though it was taut. "If you'd like me too."

Sandra sighed and dropped her arm. "Look, I'm not going to bite your head off if you talk to me. This morning... It was personal."

"I understand. As long as I know where I stand."

"Don't worry, I'm focussed on the case again now," she replied.

Spencer almost muttered, 'That's what I'm afraid of,' but thought better of it. Instead, he said, "Since I'm at this side of the car, I'll drive. You can navigate."

Sandra hesitated for all of about two seconds before coming around to his side of the car. "On second thoughts, I think I can manage," she told him.

Spencer grinned and climbed into the passenger side. "Alright, hotel first, which is in...Tavira."

"Why can't we stay in Faro?" Sandra asked as she set off.

"Apparently Tavira's closer to Moncarapacho that Faro is," Spencer replied, then grinned again. "And it's probably cheaper."

Sandra grunted. "That's more like it."

NT-WtD-NT-WtD-NT-WtD

Jack dumped a sheaf of papers on Boyd's desk, making the DSI jump. "What's this?"

"Sam Taylor," Jack replied, sinking into the chair at the other side of the desk. His shirt sleeves were rolled up, the first couple of buttons at the collar undone, and his tie was loose. He looked how Boyd felt; knackered and fed up with the world.

Boyd took his glasses off slowly. "Sam Taylor?" he asked, clearly confused.

Jack held one piece of paper up. "Sam Taylor." He held up another. "Sam Taylor." And another. "Sam Taylor..."

"That's a woman!" Boyd exclaimed.

"Sorry, I forgot to mention this includes all Samantha and Samuel Taylors as well."

Boyd leant back in his chair, put his hands behind his head and exhaled noisily. Stella had returned from taking Spencer to the airport all bright and cheerful and had offered to help Eve, Gerry and Brian in the lab. Boyd had sent her gladly. Grace, however, hadn't returned, nor had she called him, and it was starting to make him a little grouchy. And now, even with his and Jack's combined hard work, they were still no closer to finding Sam Taylor.

"Alright, what have we got?" Boyd asked.

"Driving licenses, passports, criminal records," Jack listed. "Every Sam Taylor in the Greater London area."

Boyd grimaced. "I don't like assuming he's still around here."

"Neither do I, but it's a place to start." He smiled grimly. "There's just one thing; this is every Sam Taylor."

"You already said..." Boyd trailed off and his face fell. "Don't tell me, some of them won't be old enough to be the one we're looking for."

Jack nodded. "We need to sort through them, discounting anyone who doesn't fit the description Mrs Kiernan gave us."

"It's a vague description."

"It's a start."

Boyd picked up the phone. "Eve, it's Boyd. I need Stella and Brian back in here now. And Gerry if you can spare him... What?... Alright, you come as well!" He returned the receiver to its cradle and stared at Jack. "I spoke to Dean Hampton a while ago on the phone, asked him if Lisa every mentioned a Sam Taylor."

Jack leant forward, his expression intent. "And?"

Boyd shook his head. "The name isn't familiar to him at all. And why his daughter would be found in an apartment leased to someone with that name was a mystery to him as well."

"So, we know Lisa died not long after she disappeared, which means she would have known Sam Taylor back then...," Jack started to say, leaning back again.

"Not necessarily," Boyd interrupted him. "The apartment was only leased three years ago."

"Right. I forgot." Jack stared up at the ceiling. "I'm beginning to seriously believe that our mysterious Mr Taylor doesn't exist, you know."

"I'm beginning to think the same, but we have to be sure," Boyd replied.

"You wanted us, sir?" Stella said as she appeared in his doorway, the others right behind her.

"Yes." Boyd stood up, grabbed the pile of papers and headed out in the squad room. "These are all the Sam Taylors we could find. I want you to sort it out, discarding any women, any who are too young, too old."

"What about those without brown hair?" Gerry asked.

Jack shook his head, having appeared at Boyd's side. "He could have easily died his hair."

"And why are we discarding the women?" Brian asked, taking a small sheaf off the pile.

"Because the chances of there being a Samantha Taylor over five foot ten is highly unlikely," Jack replied. "And because it makes our job easier. Look..."

"We don't think he exists," Boyd said bluntly. "There's too little information on him, he's too difficult to find. The whole thing smells like an alias."

"You might be right there, Boyd," Eve said from her perch on the corner of the desk.

The DSI looked at her hopefully. "You found something?"

She shook her head. "It's the lack of findings that's confusing me. We've covered almost every part of Lisa Riggs' apartment and apart from that single print which belongs to Jack Riggs, we haven't found anything."

Jack frowned. "No prints? No hair? Fibres?"

*"Nothing,"* Eve said with emphasis.

"Alright, we agree that the apartment looks like a set up, yeah?" Gerry said, going to the board. "And this just confirms that hypothesis."

Brian chewed thoughtfully on the arm of his glasses. "So far, we've only got three people who seem to be involved in this case: Dean Hampton, Jack Riggs and Isabella Riggs."

"And Sam Taylor," Stella added.

"No, I agree with Jack and Boyd, I don't think he's important, if he even exists," the ex-DI continued. "Well, he exists, or existed, but he's probably someone else in disguise."

"Either Hampton or Riggs," Gerry said. "Unless there's an unknown fourth person who Lisa's dad didn't know about."

"There's no evidence to support that," Eve replied.

Boyd threw his arms up in the air. "There's no evidence to support anything!"

"Except that Jack Riggs *was* in that apartment, and in the last three years," Stella said.

But Eve shook her head. "I'm not sure about that."

Jack looked at her. "What do you mean?"

"The print we got, it was *too* good."

"Planted?" Boyd asked.

"Could be."

"By who, though?" Brian asked.

"Sam Taylor," Gerry replied dryly.

"I wonder how Sandra and Spence are getting along," Jack said with a sigh.

Boyd rubbed his eyes. "To be honest, I don't really care. Alright, let's call it a day and try again tomorrow."

"Suddenly you're my most favourite person in the whole wide world," Gerry said with a huge grin.

NT-WtD-NT-WtD-NT-WtD

When Spencer woke the next morning, the sky was overcast and the humidity high, all his clothes feeling damp as he dressed. They had arrived at the hotel last night, gone to their separate rooms and stayed there. He hadn't seen or heard anything from Sandra, and somehow he wasn't surprised. Boyd's words still rang in his ears, about keeping an eye on her and playing by the rules, but he was also forming his own opinion on the case, and something really didn't sit right with him, especially the print Eve and Stella had found. It was just...too easy, almost.

"Good morning," Sandra greeted him as he entered the dining room for breakfast. "I thought I was going to have to take the fire axe to your door to wake you up."

"Jet lag," he replied.

"Spence, we've flown for a couple of hours and we're still in the same time zone," she said dryly.

He shrugged. "Jet lag," he repeated. "So, what's the plan? Just to turn up at Riggs' house or are we going to phone him first?"

Sandra shook her head. "Phone him and he might bail. No, we'll just turn up. Assuming we can find the place."

"Don't we have the address?" Spencer asked, and Sandra handed him a piece of paper. "Oh."

"Exactly." She sipped her coffee. "I've just been talking with one of the waiters and apparently, there are loads of places around here that don't have addresses as such."

"Then how are we supposed to find him?"

"The waiter, Gabriel, knows the area well, and he's familiar with this...let's call it a cluster of houses, he just isn't sure which one is Riggs'."

Spencer looked at the paper again. "Casa da borboleta azul?"

"Apparently it means 'house of the blue butterfly," Sandra replied.

"Nice."

"Should be easy to find, though. They might not have addresses per se, but house names are fairly unique in an area."

Spencer drained his cup. "Alright, let's get started."

"Don't you want to eat?" Sandra asked.

He shook his head. "Too early for me. I'll grab something later. Do you want me to drive?"

Sandra shook her head. "No. Navigate."

TBC


	13. Planting

NT-WtD-NT-WtD-NT-WtD

The car protested violently the road it was being driven up, if one could indeed call it a road. It didn't even deserve the term 'dirt track', especially with the bedrock poking out the most awkward of places.

"Maybe we should have hired a Jeep instead," Sandra muttered, her teeth rattling.

"Or maybe you should have let me drive," Spencer replied, his eye surreptitiously on the speedometer.

Sandra couldn't even break her concentration on the road to glare at him, but he knew she was imagining his face in the middle of the road. "There is nothing wrong with my driving."

"Right."

"Look, Spence, what's your...?"

"No, I meant turn right!" he exclaimed, pointing out of the window.

Sandra slammed the brakes on and the car skidded merrily to a halt on the loose material of the track. "Bollocks." Shoving the gear stick roughly into reverse, she looked over her shoulder and floored the accelerator, the car shooting back several metres in less than ten seconds. "Now, right, did you say?"

Spencer, gripping the seat and the door, could only nod, silently glad he had made his will before leaving the country. As it was going, he wasn't exactly sure he would make it back alive. After a few more moments, he said, "I think you want the next left."

And sure enough, a cheerful little sign with a blue butterfly on it told them they were going the right way. They pulled up outside of the gates, which were open, and exited the car quickly. "If I smoked, right now I'd need a cigarette," Sandra muttered, then looked over to Spencer who was quickly pulling out a packet and lighting one up.

"What?" he asked when he realised he was being scrutinised.

"When did you...?" she started to ask, then shook her head. "Never mind. When you've finished that, we'll go and knock on the door."

"Reckon he's in?"

"There's a car just up the driveway, so I'm guessing yes."

Spencer took a grateful drag of his cigarette. "And the open gates? Do you think he was expecting us?"

Sandra rolled her eyes. "No. That would be pushing our luck far too much." She turned and took in the view. "You can see the sea from here," she said matter-of-factly, but Spencer caught the longing in her voice.

"A place in the sun isn't always what the advert says," he reminded her gently. "It usually sounds good..."

"It isn't for me," she interrupted. "Sure, it looks nice, for a holiday, but living here?" She shook her head. "I'd be bored."

Spencer nodded in agreement as he took a last drag and threw the butt on the floor. "It is a nice view, though. Shall we?"

They walked up the cobbled driveway, taking in the surrounding hills which rolled gently around the property, the slightly raised location giving a decent view of the sea in the distance. There was a calm atmosphere around the place, the gentle sound of a fountain coming from around one corner, and around another Sandra spotted a pool.

"How much do you reckon this place cost?" she asked.

"Depends when it was bought," Spencer replied. "If it was years ago, not much. If it was now..." He shrugged. "I couldn't afford it."

"Yeah. Me either."

It took another few moments to locate the front door, which wasn't opposite the gate, which would have been an obvious place, but around the corner. Another moment was wasted as they tried, and failed, to locate a knocker or doorbell. Eventually, Spencer just pounded heavily on the door.

"Sim?" a tall, well built man answered, frowning slightly at their presence. His blue eyes took in their postures and clothing, and he knew instantly they weren't local, not even close. His brown hair was greying at the temples and swept back into a ponytail.

"Jack Riggs?" Sandra asked.

The man's frown deepened. "Sim. Quem é você?"

Both Sandra and Spencer stared blankly at him for a moment, his accent so perfect and his skin so tanned that he could so easily have passed for a local. "Mr Riggs, my name is Detective Superintendent Sandra Pullman from the Metropolitan Police, London. This is Detective Inspector Spencer Jordan. Can we have a word, please?"

"Police?" Riggs replied, his English slightly accented from years of living abroad. "What is it about?"

"Your wife, sir," Spencer said quietly.

Riggs looks shocked. "Isobel? Por que a polícia inglês estar aqui com ela?"

Sandra blinked. "Sorry?"

Riggs stared right back at her. "There seems to have been some confusion." He rubbed his eyes. "Please, come in. We can go out onto the patio." He gestured for them to enter the house, then led them through it, grabbing his mobile and texting as he went. "Please, have a seat. Do you want a drink?"

"No, thank you," Sandra said, and Riggs could tell she meant business.

"Alright. Now, what is this all about? What are two English police officers doing on my doorstep?"

"We have news about your wife, Lisa Riggs," Spencer replied.

Riggs stared at them incredulously for a moment before the colour drained from under his tan and his face when a grey shade of pale. "Oh my God. How did you find her?"

"Mr Riggs, we understand this may be hard for you, but Lisa's body was found in an apartment," Sandra explained. "It had been there for about three years, but we think she died between ten and fourteen years or so before that, not long after she disappeared. Her body was frozen."

"Frozen? What? For ten years? Why?" he asked, obviously in shock.

"We don't know. We have some questions, if you don't mind answering them," Spencer said.

"No, of course not."

"You left England about six weeks after Lisa disappeared. Why?"

Riggs sighed. "Mine and Lisa's marriage had... We'd been going through a rough patch, since her mother died about a year before. And then the weeks before she disappeared, she was... Well, she was almost impossible to live with. She told me she wanted a divorce, but I wanted to keep trying. I couldn't understand what was wrong with her and I wanted to work things out."

"You filed a missing persons report on 3rd October 1991," Sandra said.

"That's right," Riggs replied.

"And yet six weeks later, you left the country. Why?" Spencer pressed, reiterating the question he had voiced minutes earlier which Riggs had avoided.

Again, the man dragged his hand over his face. "We were a close family, me, Lisa and Izzy, but Dean never approved of my marriage to Lisa. Dean Hampton, that's Lisa's father," he explained.

Sandra nodded. "We know."

"When Lisa disappeared and it seemed clear to us both she wasn't going to reappear any time soon, Dean wanted to challenge me to the right to take care of Izzy. You see, even though Lisa and I were married, and Izzy took on my second name, I never legally adopted her. In the eyes of the law, she would be in the care of family, so her grandfather. I couldn't cope with losing her as well as Lisa, so I just... Look, I ran away, alright? I was twenty four years old and I didn't know what else to do. I didn't have the guts to fight Dean for Izzy, though I knew she'd rather have stayed with me than her grandfather. Sometime after I left, I sent him the key for mine and Lisa's house. I didn't want anything from it, everything just reminded me of her anyway. I wanted to start afresh, though it pained me to leave Izzy, and so cutting all ties was the best way for me to do that."

"Dean Hampton said the two of you got along quite well, that he agreed with you marrying Lisa," Sandra stated.

Riggs grunted. "He's a liar. He hated the fact, thought I was a good for nothing loafer. What made it worse was that Izzy adored me as well and refused to spend much time with her grandparents."

"Izzy disappeared three years later, when she was eighteen," Spencer said. "Did you have any contact with her after you left England?"

"When was that?" Riggs asked, frowning in concentration.

"1994," Sandra supplied.

"Disappeared? Odd."

"What?"

"Well I saw her in 1996," Riggs said. "She found me, God only knows how, and she said she'd been travelling since she was eighteen and that she'd been sending postcards back to her grandfather to let him know what she was doing."

"Mr Hampton did mention something about that," Sandra replied.

"So she can't have 'disappeared' then, can she?" Riggs asked, a sarcastic edge to his voice.

"Have you see or heard from her since then?" Sandra inquired after a short pause. She was waiting for Spencer to ask, but he seemed to be occupied with the flora in the garden.

"Not since then, no," Riggs replied.

Spencer suddenly knelt down to a plant. "Do you do all the gardening yourself, Mr Riggs?" he asked, looking up.

Riggs nodded. "Why?"

"No help at all?"

"No," Riggs replied, his tone becoming impatient. "Why?"

But Spencer just smiled and gestured at the garden, and Sandra and Riggs looked around at what he was pointing to. "It's beautiful," Spencer said, standing.

Riggs inclined his head. "Thank you."

"Is it your profession?"

"It is. I grow a lot of succulents myself and use them for my work." He shrugged. "It saves the clients a few cents and keeps them happy."

"Cents?" Sandra asked.

"Our equivalent of pennies."

"And you learnt gardening over here?" Spencer asked as they walked back through the house to the front door.

Riggs nodded. "But I don't see what that has to do with Lisa's body turning up in a flat in London after almost seventeen years."

Sandra looked at him curiously. "Who said it was in London?"

Riggs stared back at her unblinkingly. "If it was any other part of the country, they would have sent local police. You're from London, I guessed she was found in London."

"If we have any more questions, can we come back?" Spencer asked, shooting Sandra a look.

"Of course. I'll be here." He dug into his pocket and pulled out a card. "And for when you get back to England, you can phone or email me."

"Thank you." Spencer took the card and gave him one of theirs. "Goodbye."

"Até logo," Riggs replied before shutting the door.

As soon as they were out of ear shot, Sandra wheeled round. "What the hell was that all about?" she demanded to know.

Spencer stopped and blinked in surprise. "What?"

"With the garden. Didn't know you were a botanist."

"I was just being polite," Spencer said with a shrug.

"Bullshit. What's going on?"

"Nothing."

Sandra smiled dryly. "I work with three retired police officers whose hayday was the '70s," she told Spencer. "'Nothing' usually means 'it isn't necessarily legal'."

"My hayday is now. We do things a little differently," Spencer replied.

"And your boss is Boyd, who gave me the 'play by the book' speech before we left," Sandra said, starting to glower. "Don't tell me he didn't give you the same one."

Spencer frowned. "I don't know what you're talking about. I was just admiring the garden, making conversation. In seventeen years, he's done very well for himself, that's all."

Sandra didn't seem convinced but she didn't have anything else to push him on. "Are you sure there's nothing you want to tell me?"

"Positive. Come on, let's get back to the hotel. There isn't much else we can do here." He held his hand out. "I'll drive this time," he said firmly.

TBC

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations of the Portuguese:  
> Por que a polícia inglês estar aqui com ela? - Why would the English be here about her?  
> Quem é você? - Who are you?  
> Até logo – See you later


	14. Alone

NT-WtD-NT-WtD-NT-WtD

Boyd was in a monumentally foul mood, which was saying something indeed for him. As soon as he had left work the night before, he had called Grace to see why she hadn't returned to the office. All kinds of scenarios were playing out in his head, each progressively worse than the previous one. Well, apart from the one that had Grace wearing very little, spread out on his couch seductively, waiting for him to return home... But that hadn't happened, and it wasn't until later on in the evening that she called him back. Her answers to his questions were less than satisfactory; she couldn't concentrate at work and so was trying to put together some profiles at home. When Boyd asked if she had spoken to Sandra, Grace changed the subject. He ended the call with a rather sarcastic, 'So I take it this means I'm not seeing you tonight. Thanks for letting me know,' which was met by stony silence on Grace's part before a terse 'Good night'. Boyd had swore long and hard, opened a bottle of scotch and drank far more than he really should have done. Not that he was hungover, not by a long shot, but the alcohol made him brood more than he had done in a long time, and the worst part was, he couldn't quite put his finger on why he was so angry. Was it with himself? With Grace? With Sandra? Or with the case? Was it all of the above or none of the above? The questions made him miss Grace even more, which in turn made him grouchier. The image he gave out that morning was of the proverbial bear with the equally proverbial hernia.

Jack was the first in after Boyd, by deliberate choice or happy coincidence, not that it mattered. He took one look at the Superintendent and brewed some very strong coffee, not even bothering to knock on the door before going in.

"You look like you need this," Jack said, setting the mug down in front of Boyd.

"I don't," Boyd replied, glaring at him.

Jack just stared back. "I think you're lying, and I don't care why. Drink it."

"I don't like...," Boyd started to say, rising slowly to his feet.

"Did you talk to Sandra or Spencer last night?" Jack asked, ignoring him.

"No."

"Which means you talked to Grace and it didn't go well." Jack sat down. "Is it her who's being awkward or you?"

"Are you normally this blunt?" Boyd asked, half-annoyed, half-amused.

"Only when I need to be." He took a sip of his own drink. "I was thinking about that print Eve found, and I'm inclined to believe her suggestion."

"That it was planted?"

Jack nodded. "You know there may be the possibility we need to bring Jack Riggs back here, to England, to question him properly."

Boyd picked up his own mug. "I know. But let's wait to see what they find out first."

"What about the rest of us? You know, I'm beginning to think that Sam Taylor doesn't exist either."

"Talk to Dean Hampton again. Press him. He knows more than he's telling us." Boyd looked up as the others all trailed in. "Take Gerry with you."

Jack raised his eyebrows. "Not one of your team...like Grace."

Boyd shook his head, his expression grim. "No. I need someone who's part bulldog."

"Well, Gerry certainly fits that description," Jack agreed. "But I thought she was quite...assertive during your last interview with him."

"She was, but in the wrong way," Boyd replied. "Grace did what I do; do as I say but not as I do."

Jack smiled. "Rubbed you up the wrong way."

"Just a little." He ran a hand through his hair. "If I haven't heard from Sandra or Spence by lunch time, I'll call them." He stared into space for a moment.

"Do you want me to go?" Jack asked, starting to rise.

Boyd didn't answer, just stayed silent for a while before suddenly jumping to his feet and striding out into the squad room, yelling, "Stella, go and get Eve," as he went. The scientist had gone straight through to her lab when she entered work that morning, determined to find *something* else to go on.

Stella looked up, her eyes wide. "Yes, sir."

"Jack, call Mr Hampton and set up a meeting for as soon as possible," Boyd said to the ex-DCI. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Grace look up from her desk, an eyebrow raised, her open door allowing her to hear everything that was going on.

"You're with me," Jack murmured to Gerry, who just nodded.

"Do we have a breakthrough?" Eve asked as she and Stella entered the room.

"I want to go to Lisa Riggs' apartment, or the apartment she was found in," Boyd replied. "We're not coming up with anything here, so I thought we might have better luck at the scene of the crime, if it is indeed the scene of the crime. I need you and your photos of the apartment. Stella, Brian, you two as well. Come on, get a move on!"

"Dean Hampton will see us right now," Jack said as he got off the phone.

Gerry looked surprised. "Awfully decent of him. Was he expecting us to call or something?"

"That's what we're going to find out," Jack replied. "Gerry, come. Heel. Good boy."

"You forgot 'sit', 'stay' and 'shut up'," Eve added with a grin.

Gerry looked unimpressed. "Am I missing something here?"

"I'll explain on the way," Jack said, and the teams caught the word 'bulldog' as the two retired officers left.

"What do you need me for?" Brian asked, acutely aware he was the only one of his team left and feeling a little uncomfortable.

"I need another person's view," Boyd said quietly while Stella helped Eve collect her things. "I need someone who thinks differently to my own team and who isn't afraid of telling me if they think I'm wrong. Because you're damn good at your job and I need a thinker."

Brian just shrugged, though inside he was beaming with pride. "Fair enough."

"Have we got everything?" Boyd asked as Stella and Eve returned, and they both nodded. "Let's go."

Grace watched in surprise which bordered on shock as everyone trooped out of the office without even so much as a goodbye, without even telling her where they were going. Nothing. She knew Boyd was to blame; she had blown him off the night before and now he was acting childish. The truth was she just hadn't wanted to see him, Sandra's comments ringing in her ears. Grace had never had to choose between Boyd and the job or the case before, and now that the choice was potentially laid out before her, she found herself leaning instinctively towards the case, towards getting a result, rather than towards a man she had been certain she loved.

And now... It wasn't that Grace was uncertain, but the possibility of going up against him so aggressively at work wasn't something she had factored into their relationship. She knew how he would get, especially if he thought he was right...nothing else would matter, especially not her or her feelings. Not that they had experienced only easy cases while they had been together, but this felt different. And walking off without a word to her...that was a definite snub. Never mind, she would show he that she was the grown up, and with a resolved sigh, Grace turned her attention once more to the profiles of the few people involved in the case.

NT-WtD-NT-WtD-NT-WtD

When Grace's phone rang an hour or so later, she stretched gratefully and picked up the receiver. "Hello?"

For one irrational moment, she thought it was Boyd, but when a female voice replied, she kicked herself mentally for being so stupid. *"Grace? It's Sandra."*

"Hi," the profiler said, smiling. "How's Portugal?"

*"Cloudy and relatively cold."*

"Really? Not a good holiday destination this time of year, then?" Grace asked.

*"Not really."* Sandra paused. *"Is Boyd there?"*

Grace closed her eyes. "No, he isn't," she said, keeping her voice as light as possible.

Sandra wasn't fooled. *"Is there a problem?"*

"I'll tell you when you get back tomorrow," she replied. "Do you have some news?"

*"We've just met with Jack Riggs. He said that he last saw Isabella Riggs in 1996,"* Sandra reported. *"Apparently she just turned up on his doorstep."*

"So she would have been...what? Twenty one?" Grace asked.

*"I think so. He also said he hadn't seen her or heard from her since then, and apparently, his relationship with Dean Hampton wasn't as cosy as Mr Hampton wanted us to believe,"* Sandra continued. *"Riggs said that Hampton never approved of his marriage to Lisa and that when it became clear Lisa wasn't going to reappear any time soon, Hampton was going to challenge Riggs to custody of Izzy. Riggs was only twenty four at the time, he said he couldn't cope with losing both Lisa and Izzy and so he ran away."*

"Hmm." Grace was silent as she scribbled notes a piece of paper. "What do you think?"

*"There seems to be some inconsistencies with what Riggs and Hampton have told us, especially with Isabella Riggs'...disappearance. About the only thing they do agree on is what a nice person Lisa was."* Sandra sighed. "*I think we need to bring them both in for questioning, put them in interview rooms next to each other and grill them until one of them cracks."*

"If I were you, I'd wait until later, make sure Boyd knows what you're doing," Grace said through gritted teeth. "He may turn something up today that eliminates Riggs from the enquiry completely."

*"Or makes him our prime suspect,"* Sandra replied tersely. *"But you're right. I won't do anything until I've spoken with the big boss man. Right, I'd better go."*

"See you tomorrow," Grace said before putting the phone down. Staring into space for a moment, she soon turned her thoughts back to her profiles. At least one of them had just taken on a different aspect, one which could quite possibly be of great importance to the case.

TBC


	15. Reconstruction

NT-WtD-NT-WtD-NT-WtD

"So, why exactly are we here?" Eve asked as they entered the apartment where Lisa Riggs' body had been found.

"Because we were getting nowhere sat in the office," Boyd replied.

"We might get anywhere here, either," Brian pointed out.

Boyd nodded, conceding the point. "But if we don't try, we'll never know." He turned to Eve. "Have you got the photos?"

She nodded as well. "They show where everything was, all the things we removed."

"Good. Good," Boyd said absently. "Alright, let's do a little thinking, shall we? We need ideas to work with, any ideas will do."

"Reconstruction," Stella suggested.

Brian looked at her. "What do you mean?"

"Well, Lisa Riggs wasn't killed here, was she?"

Eve shook her head. "Killed elsewhere and frozen for about fourteen years."

"So her body had to have been brought in here somehow," Stella said. "And we can assume that Sam Taylor, whoever he is, was the one to bring her."

"For the moment, Stella," Boyd replied. "We can assume that for the moment, yeah? So, how do you get a frozen body into an apartment without anyone noticing?"

"Bring it in as part of the furniture," Brian said, looking around.

"You mean like a statue?" Eve asked with a straight face.

"No, I mean in something like this." Brian was walking in to the kitchen, pointing at something which really didn't belong in the apartment of a kitchen.

The other three followed. "A big freezer," Stella said.

"It's called a chest freezer," Boyd told her. "Eve, did you check in here?"

"The kitchen, yes. The freezer, no. Stella, would you get my kit out of the living room, please?" the scientist asked. She turned to the others. "No one touch it."

"Wouldn't dream of it," Brian murmured, his eyes darting around the room. "It still leaves us with the problem, though, of how her body got out of the freezer and onto the floor in there." He pointed to the living room.

"Well, Eve can check for any kind of damage to the edges of the freezer..." Boyd moved purposefully to the doorway joining the kitchen and the living room. "Stella, how tall was Lisa Riggs?"

"About...five feet seven, I think," she replied.

"Alright, let's say Brian's right. What's the easiest way of getting a body out of the freezer?" Boyd asked.

"Under the arms," Brian suggested.

Stella shook her head. "The body is frozen, solid. You could grip the upper arms and pull, depending on how strong you are."

"However it was done, it wouldn't leave a mark on the body," the ex-DI said. "So you could be as rough as you wanted to be with it."

"I think I might have something," Eve said, adding quickly, "But don't crowd me! I said 'might'."

Everyone froze in place. "What?" Boyd asked, fighting the urge to go and see what it was.

"Blood drop," the pathologist replied. "This freezer has been cleaned pretty thoroughly, but this little bit stood out quite nicely against the white." She sighed. "You know we're going to have to take this back to the lab with us."

"The blood drop?" Brian asked.

Eve glared at him. "The freezer."

Boyd waved her comment aside impatiently. "Just give it the once over here, Eve, yeah?"

"Alright, Boyd, don't rush me."

He crossed his arms and stared out of the kitchen window instead of either tapping or making some kind of smart comment. And as he stared out over London, Boyd found himself wondering what Grace was doing at that moment. Had she managed to find something tangible for them to use or was she still swearing and throwing things across the room in frustration? Not that she would ever admit to doing that, of course. It was a standard thing for her to make out he was the one with the temper, which he was, but she was no angel.

Out of the corner of her eye, Eve watched Boyd's expression soften and she knew he was thinking about Grace. She had picked up on the stressed vibe in the office that morning, and hadn't wanted to question why the profiler had been left behind without a word while the rest of them trooped off on their little field trip. With a quiet sigh, Eve returned her full attention to the freezer, silently cursing herself for not noticing the oddity when she had been in the apartment the first time. They could have saved themselves a lot of trouble is she had. Frowning, the pathologist tried to think why she had failed to notice it, and realised after a moment or two that the kitchen door had been shut and neither her nor Spencer had been in the room, deciding it was unimportant for the moment. How wrong they had been.

"This is interesting," Eve said, frowning again as she stood up, bending closer to the edge of the freezer.

"What?"

The closeness of Boyd's voice made her jump and she glared at him briefly. "There seems to be some scuffing here," she replied.

Boyd put his head next to hers as he looked where she was pointing. "Feet marks, perhaps?"

"Could have been made by a body being dragged out of the freezer, yes."

Boyd stood up straight and looked around, then back at Eve. "How tall are you?" he asked.

The pathologist stood up as well and looked at him suspiciously. "Why?"

"Reconstruction."

Stella and Brian looked at each other, their eyebrows raised, and waited for the inevitable... "No way! You can't be serious, Boyd!" Eve protested. "I mean, not only with the logistics of it...or have you forgotten about your back? There's the point that you might be destroying evidence!"

"You've got a Tellytubbie suit in your kit, haven't you?" Stella asked.

"Tellytubbie?" Brian repeated, looking at her.

She blushed. "Well...it seems like a good description."

"Yes, I do, and no, I'm not!" Eve replied, scowling at her team-mate and the retired officer.

"It's important to the case," Boyd said, his voice low. "And it could give us a breakthrough we're looking for."

Eve's scowl deepened and she folded her arms grumpily. "You're going to force me to do this, aren't you?"

Boyd's expression changed. "Yes, I am."

"Fine." The pathologist pulled a suit out of her kit and climbed into it. "But I'm against this, Boyd. We should wait until I've have a better chance to go over this freezer at the lab."

"But then we wouldn't be able to do the reconstruction," Brian pointed out. "We need to be here, in the apartment. And what evidence can be found from a clean freezer? A bit of blood, maybe fingerprints, but nothing that you're going to disturb. If you're careful."

"Whose side are you on, Brutus?"

"The side of the truth. Just be careful," Brian repeated.

Glowering, Eve pulled her hood up. "Gloves," she ordered Boyd. Then she glared again at Brian, and Stella too. "Well, don't just stand there. Get over here and give me a hand getting into the bloody freezer!"

Trying not to smirk with amusement, Boyd pulled his gloves on as told, and then helped the other two lift the scientist up. "Alright, how would you fit a dead body into a freezer?" he asked.

Brian went to take hold of Eve's shoulders, then paused. "May I?" he asked mildly.

Eve rolled her eyes and nodded. "If you must."

Gently, he pushed her down and onto one side. Stella followed his lead and grabbed the pathologist's feet, pushing her limp legs up into a semi-foetal position. "This isn't going to work," the DC said. "There isn't enough room."

"What about on your back?" Brian suggested to Eve. "Bend your neck forward and then bend your knees up."

"That looks uncomfortable," Stella pointed out.

"I don't think a corpse would complain, Stella," Boyd told her. "Alright, take a photo."

"Boyd!" Eve protested.

"Not for blackmail, for the investigation," Boyd replied, but he couldn't quite stop himself from smirking.

"Let's put the lid down for a second as well," Brian suggested after a widely grinning Stella had snapped a photograph of the pathologist packed into the freezer like a sardine in a tin. "Are you okay with that, Eve?"

"Just don't leave me in here too long," she replied.

Boyd lowered the lid carefully, but it wouldn't shut. "Your knees are in the way," he complained.

"I'm very sorry, but there isn't much I can do about that. I do need them, you know."

Brian's expression was speculative. "Was there any kind of damage to Lisa Riggs' knees?"

Boyd pushed the lid back and helped Eve into a sitting position. "The decomposition would have erased any traces, unless it had been pushed down with force, which could have fractured the bones of the knee. But I didn't see any such damage."

"Let's try getting you out of there and into the living room," Boyd said. "Just...hold yourself as rigid as possible, yeah?"

"I'll try. Just don't pull your back out or I'll never hear the end of it," Eve muttered. "And neither will you."

"I heard that."

"You were meant to."

"What do you want us to do, sir?" Stella asked.

"Follow our path and look for points of interest," Boyd replied. "Ready?" Eve nodded, already back in her uncomfortable position.

Rolling his shoulders a little to loosen them, Boyd reached in and gripped Eve's shoulders, trying to pull her up. She didn't move very far. He tried harder and heard a slight scraping noise. Sighing with frustration, he stood up and frowned. The others were silent, letting the DSI think, and then suddenly he stepped to the long edge of the freezer. With one arm under Eve's knees, he put the others around her shoulders and heaved her out.

"You're cold," he remarked.

"Ha. Ha. Ha," Eve said.

As they moved away from the freezer, Stella and Brian quickly moved in, taking a couple of photos and measurements, of what, Boyd wasn't sure. He was too busy gritting his teeth and concentrating on not falling flat on his face. The doorway proved a difficult obstacle to manoeuvre, with Boyd scraping his knuckles as he carried Eve through sideways.

"Shit," he muttered.

"What?" Eve asked.

"You'll have to take a sample of my blood for comparison," Boyd replied, and then explained what he had done.

"We've got it," Stella said, grabbing a swab, followed by Brian with the camera.

Boyd paused and looked around. "I can't see where Lisa's body was found."

"Just put me down here," Eve said, taking in the strain on his face. She knew she wasn't exactly a lightweight, which was one of the main reasons she had objected to the madness of a reconstruction. But at least he hadn't made any wisecracks about her being heavy. Yet.

With surprising grace and ease, and a certain amount of tenderness, Boyd put the scientist down carefully on the floor. "Why did you do that?" Brian asked curiously.

"What do you mean?" Boyd asked, leaning against the couch as he caught his breath.

"When you put her down, it was almost...well, with love."

Stella looked as though she had swallowed a lemon while Eve was impressed by the ex-DI's observational skills. "That's just what I was thinking," she replied.

"What?" Boyd asked.

"There was a certain amount of tenderness in your actions," she explained. "And it isn't just because I'm a colleague."

He shrugged. "It just seemed right. Whoever put Lisa in that freezer left her in one piece."

"Sir?" Stella said, looking quizzical.

"Allow me." Eve sat up and crossed her legs. "The easiest way to fit a body into an enclosed I to dismember it, or at least partly," she explained matter-of-factly. "Unless it's someone small, or a child, the average adult won't fit into a chest freezer, not even an industrial sized one. But whoever put Lisa's body in that..." She pointed to the freezer. "...Made her fit in in one piece."

"Which suggests care or love, which suggests a close relationship to the deceased," Brian said.

"Her husband, Jack Riggs," Stella replied.

"Or her father," Boyd added.

"Or the mysterious Sam Taylor," Eve finished. "Although if her father has never heard of him, I doubt it was him."

"Let's leave the invisible man out of this for the minute," Boyd said, looking at Stella and Brian. "Was there anything else on the door frame, apart from my skin and blood?"

Brian nodded. "This." He pointed to a spot not two centimetres above three red marks.

"I don't see anything," Boyd grumbled.

But Eve was on her feet and peering closely at the woodwork. "No, I think Brian's right. There's some discolouration here, here, here...and here. If I had to take an educated guess, I would say that someone cleaned blood off, blood which probably got there the same way that yours just did," she said to Boyd.

"Is there any way to tell for sure?" Stella asked.

Eve smiled. "UV. Hit the lights and close the curtains, please." And four minutes later, four marks appeared exactly where she had pointed out, looking suspiciously like the marks from Boyd's knuckles below. "Stella..."

"A photo. I'm on it."

Boyd was extremely pensive as Eve and Stella collected all the evidence together and Brian opened the curtains. "Can anyone remember when Lisa Riggs was born?"

"October 25th 1958," Brian replied promptly.

"Stupid question," Boyd murmured. "Do we know how old Dean Hampton is?"

"No, but if we assume that he must have been about twenty years old when Lisa was born, that would put him born in the mid- to late thirties," the ex-DI said. "Which would make him in his early to mid-fifties when Lisa disappeared."

"Hard work for a man that age," Eve commented cheekily, glancing at Boyd.

"Especially if Lisa weighed as much as you do," he replied.

Eve pulled a face. "I deserved that."

"So, are we saying it's unlikely that Dean Hampton could have pulled his daughter from the freezer and carried her to the living room?" Stella asked. "Does that mean he isn't a suspect any more?"

Boyd shook his head. "He's still a suspect until we find something that clears him categorically."

"And Jack Riggs?" Eve asked.

Boyd sighed. "They need to bring him back." He started across the room. "Let's get back to the office first."

"I'll stay and sort of transportation of the freezer," Eve replied.

"Let me know when it's on its way!" Boyd called over his shoulder as he went out of the door.

TBC


	16. Sidestep

NT-WtD-NT-WtD-NT-WtD

"...Good, to be sure, but it still doesn't give us much to go on," Stella was saying as they entered the squad room.

Grace had heard their arrival from a half mile down the corridor, the three of them chatting quite loudly about something and sounding quite pleased with themselves. Now she could see their faces as well, they *looked* quite pleased with themselves, like proverbial cats with cream.

"Productive trip?" she called from her office. "Wherever you went."

No one missed the bitter tone in her voice. Brian and Stella didn't reply or look at Boyd, they merely walked over to the coffee machine with the intent of making something strong for them all. But Boyd was undeterred. "Very," he replied mildly.

"Didn't Eve go with you?" Grace asked, watching him prop her doorway up as he seemed to do on a regular basis. For a moment only, she forgot that she was angry with him, even forgot the reason why she was angry, as she stared at him.

Boyd watched her scrutiny of him, knew what the quietness meant, and wondered briefly if he was going to get an apology. But he knew Grace; she thought he was in the wrong for the way he had treated her that morning and wouldn't be the first to back down. Anger flared in him. What did she expect? He had been worried about her the day before; that was what had made him so annoyed in the first place, he had come to realise.

"We found a freezer," he told her, walking into her office and sitting down on the couch.

Grace looked at him. "A freezer? Where?"

"I don't want to have to repeat myself too many times, so I'll give the full story when Jack and Gerry get back from their meeting with Dean Hampton," Boyd said. "But basically, we went to Lisa Riggs' apartment to try and work out how her body found its way in there in the first place, as it's pretty obvious she wasn't killed there. Brian pointed out the big chest freezer and when Eve examined it?"

"Blood?" Grace asked.

Boyd nodded. "And some other marks that allowed us to identify it as the mode of transportation."

Grace murmured, "Hmm," as she got up, rounded her desk, and came to sit next to Boyd, almost touching him but not quite. "So Eve stayed with the freezer?"

He nodded again. "She's arranging transport and then she'll come back with it." He sighed and stared at the wall opposite, and when he spoke again, his voice was low, almost a whisper. "I was worried about you yesterday. You didn't phone to let me know you weren't coming back, and then last night..."

It was the closest thing to an apology she would get, Grace knew that, but as she listened to Boyd talking, she realised he had nothing to be sorry for. She had deliberately blown him off the day before, ignored him on purpose, though she wasn't entirely sure why. Was it to see how much he cared? As a professional psychologist, and a woman of her age, she should have been above such petty games. Obviously not and the thought disgusted her.

Taking hold of his hand, Grace squeezed it as she moved closer to him. "I'm sorry about yesterday. It's just this case, it's so...frustrating. We're getting nowhere..."

"Freezer," Boyd pointed out.

"Alright, we're getting hardly anywhere," Grace amended. "And the Commissioner is breathing down our necks..."

"What's new?"

"I'm just a little tired of being made to jump through hoops."

"I know exactly how you feel," Boyd replied. "But why didn't you talk to me about this? Isn't that what you're always telling me? To talk about how I feel?"

"Yes..."

"Don't say 'but', Grace," Boyd protested. "Please. No 'buts'."

Grace smiled. "Alright, no buts. Can we make up instead?"

He raised his eyebrows as he looked at her. "Here? Right now? On your sofa?"

She whacked his arm playfully. "A little kiss would suffice."

Outside in the squad room, Stella and Brian watched – covertly, of course – as Boyd leant in and kissed Grace's cheek. "Thank God for that," the ex-DI muttered. "If I'd had to put up with those two arguing much longer, I think I'd have committed hari-bloody-kari."

"You should try working with them all the time," Stella replied. "So, what should we do while we're waiting?"

"Carry on trying to find Isabella Riggs and Sam Taylor, I suppose," Brian said. "At least until Eve gets back with the freezer."

"She won't want help."

"I can hope, can't I?" he asked, and Stella smiled.

"Before, I forget," Grace said to Boyd, both oblivious to the fact that they were being watched and talked about, "Sandra phoned."

"Good news?" Boyd asked hopefully.

"Not exactly. They met with Jack Riggs, who didn't seem surprised to see them. He also said that his relationship with Dean was rather strained, not as cosy as Dean led us to believe, and that Dean tried to fight Jack for custody of Izzy," Grace explained. "There are also some discrepancies with what Dean told us about Izzy's disappearance, and what Jack told Sandra and Spence."

Boyd sighed and laid his head back on the couch. "Do they think he's hiding something?"

"I think it's a good possibility, yes," Grace replied.

"And Sandra?" Boyd pressed.

"She wants to bring him back, and I agree. I think that if you put Jack and Dean in the same building, and each knows that the other is talking, the truth is bound to come out sooner or later."

"Have you spoken to Jack or Gerry about this yet?" Boyd asked.

Grace shook her head. "I was waiting until you came back."

"Alright, explain to Stella and Brian what you've just told me while I phone Jack."

"I've also been working on the profiles for Jack Riggs and Dean Hampton," Grace said as they made their way into the squad room.

"What about Sam Taylor?" Boyd asked.

"I think he is actually either Riggs or Hampton," she replied. "And I think this case is simpler than we think. We're trying to over complicate matters, looking for things that aren't there."

"What makes you say that?" Brian asked, handing over two cups of coffee.

"Because we aren't finding what we think should be there," Grace said. "Both of our teams are very good at what their jobs, and if we haven't found clues we think should be there, it's probably because they aren't there."

Boyd and Brian looked at each other, nonplussed, but Stella nodded. "That actually makes sense, to me anyway."

"That says everything," Boyd muttered. "What about Isabella Riggs? I take it she exists as a separate entity?"

Grace smiled. "Oh, she exists, alright, and I think she is alive somewhere. In fact, I think that if you find Izzy, you solve the case."

"We're on it, sir," Stella said before Boyd could speak.

Nodding and suppressing a smile, he walked into his office, closed the door, and dug his phone out of his pocket.

NT-WtD-NT-WtD-NT-WtD

"I really don't know what else to tell you," Dean said as he sat down.

"Anything at all would be helpful, Mr Hampton," Jack replied. "Perhaps you can give us an idea of what Lisa and Isabella were like, to start with."

An hour later, and both Jack and Gerry were even more confused than before about the cause of Lisa's death and Izzy's disappearance. From what Dean had said, his daughter was a caring, loving person with no reason to be dead at such a young age, and his granddaughter was almost the same, though she had inherited a more stubborn streak, either from her father or her stepfather, Jack Riggs.

"Mr Hampton, I have to tell you that we've found your son-in-law," Jack said once Dean had finished talking.

"Ex-son-in-law," Dean corrected instantly.

Gerry raised his eyes. "You don't seem surprised."

Dean looked at him for a moment, then his eyes went wide. "You've found him? Where? Does he know where Izzy is?"

"I'm afraid we can't answer your questions," Jack replied, and was about to say more when his phone rang. "Excuse me."

*"It's Boyd,"* the DSI said when Jack answered the call.

"Tell me you have some news."

*"Sandra and Spence have spoken to Riggs. Apparently his relationship with Hampton was strained, possibly to the point of them hating each other, and there are also some discrepancies with what Hampton told us about his granddaughter's disappearance,"* Boyd explained, relaying the message almost perfectly.

Jack sighed. "Which means we can't really trust a word he says."

*"I wouldn't go that far."*

"But if there are discrepancies, that usually means the truth is somewhere in the middle," Jack said. "So whatever Hampton tells us has to be taken with a pinch of salt, at least."

*"Isn't that the same with any suspect?"* Boyd asked, a smile in his voice. *"No one ever tells us the whole truth."*

"Not until pressed. Is that what you want us to do?"

*"Only a little. What I want you to do is tell him that we're bringing Jack Riggs in for questioning, see if that shakes him a little. If not, leave him be. Once Riggs is here in an interview room, I'll send you and Gerry to pick Hampton up unannounced."*

"If their relationship was as strained as you're suggesting, putting them in such close quarters might not be such a good idea," Jack said.

*"Or it might push one of them into cracking and telling us the truth,"* Boyd replied. *"What would you rather we do?"*

"I just want us to be careful," Jack told him. "You warned Sandra to play by the book. Let us do the same."

*"Don't worry, I have no intention of breaking the rules. Just press him a little with what we know, let Gerry loose on him for a while. If he hasn't said anything useful in the next ten minutes, though, get back here."*

Jack smiled. "Alright. See you later."

"...Why she stopped talking to me. The only thing I can think of is...is that she's dead," Dean was saying when Jack re-entered the room.

"Sorry about that," the ex-DCI said.

Gerry looked at him. "Mr Hampton was just talking about Izzy."

"I think we had better talk about Jack Riggs instead, don't you, Mr Hampton?" Jack suggested. Gerry could tell something was going on but it was clear his colleague couldn't tell him exactly what it was. But words weren't necessarily needed between them; Gerry was an old dog and could easily guess what was required of him, and when it was required.

Dean looked confused. "I don't understand."

"Your relationship with him wasn't as comfortable as you led us to believe, was it?" Jack asked.

At Dean's silence, Gerry spoke up. "We will find out the truth sooner or later, Mr Hampton. It's better for you if you tell us now."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

Trying not to show his disappointment, Jack simply stood. "Thank you for your time, Mr Hampton. We'll be in touch."

"I'm sorry, Jack," Gerry said once they were in the car. "You had him and I lost him."

But the ex-DCI shook his head. "I think we lost him as soon as Boyd phoned." He quickly relayed the conversation.

"You think Hampton overheard?"

"It's possible, but I think he was just waiting for us to ask that question. As soon as I suggested talking about Riggs, Hampton's defences went straight up," Jack said.

Gerry sighed and lit a cigarette. "So now what?"

"Back to the office."

NT-WtD-NT-WtD-NT-WtD

"I still think we should wait for Boyd to call," Spencer said stubbornly while Sandra was driving.

"We don't want Riggs to disappear on us, do we?" she asked.

"How do you know he will? At the moment, the only thing he's guilty of is being smart enough to leave England when he had the chance."

"Look, it's my call, alright?" Sandra said.

But Spencer shook his head. "No, not alright. We're supposed to be a team, me and you as well as the others. This isn't team work, this is you going off on one."

"DI Jordan, kindly remember who you're talking to," Sandra snapped.

"Fine. DSI Pullman, I want it on record that I object to this strongly," he replied, folding his arms.

"Objection noted," she said tersely.

They arrived at Riggs' house to find him sat outside with a travel bag at his feet. "I was wondering how long it would before you came back," he said calmly.

Sandra was surprised but she masked it well. Spencer, though, was now more interested in Riggs than he had been before. There was definitely something about the man, though what, he couldn't exactly put his finger on. Perhaps it was his extremely calm exterior, or it could have been the way his voice was quiet and well-modulated, but Spencer found himself more curious than ever to know how exactly Riggs fitted into the case.

"Are you going somewhere, Mr Riggs?" Sandra asked.

Riggs smiled. "Unless I'm very much mistaken, you're here to 'ask' me to go back to England with you, for questioning. Am I right?"

"Yes, you are."

"Well, I'm all packed and ready to go." He stood and hefted his bag onto his shoulder.

"What about your wife?" Spencer asked.

"She knows," Riggs replied curtly.

"Fine, let's go," Sandra said.

NT-WtD-NT-WtD-NT-WtD

"Grace, when did Sandra phone you?" Boyd asked.

"A few hours ago now, why?" she replied.

"Because I can't get hold of her or Spence."

Jack, Gerry and Brian exchanged glances. "I hope she hasn't done anything stupid," the ex-DCI said.

"Me too," Gerry replied, and Brian nodded his agreement.

Stella looked at them. "Such as?"

"Don't ask," Jack said.

"Trust us, it's better that way," Gerry added.

"Maybe they're in a spot that has no phone signal," Grace suggested as she entered Boyd's room.

He looked at her. "Did Sandra say anything else when she called you earlier?"

"Only what you said, about putting Riggs and Hampton in interview rooms next door to each other and grilling them both until one of them cracked."

"Anything else?"

"That she would wait until speaking to you before doing anything," Grace replied.

"Why doesn't that make me feel any better?" Boyd muttered.

"Boyd, try a little trust," Grace suggested.

"I think we might have found something!" Brian yelled.

"Tell me," Boyd said as he approached the desk.

"We've found three Isabella Riggs living in the Greater London area and who could be our missing girl," Stella replied. "Two are thirty one years old, one is thirty two."

"Isabella Riggs would be thirty two now," Grace said.

"Do you have photos?" Jack asked.

Brian nodded. "Printing out now."

"It might not do us much good. The only photo we have of Izzy is when she was fourteen," Grace said. "It's almost twenty years later, people can change an awful lot in that time."

Boyd started to pace. "Alright, get addresses for them and go and see them. If they're not at home, find out where they work. Jack and Stella, take one. Gerry and Brian, take another. And Grace and I will take the third."

"Here's hoping one of them is the one we're looking for," Gerry said as they all sprung into action.

NT-WtD-NT-WtD-NT-WtD

A few hours later and the mood in the squad was despondent to say the least. Three Isabella Riggs interviewed and not one of them was the one they were looking for. "Maybe we should check the rest of the British Isles," Jack suggested.

Brian took his glasses off and rubbed his eyes. "That's what we had the computer doing while we were out."

"And?" Boyd asked impatiently.

Stella shook her head. "None that match the description."

"We were incredibly luck to find three that did match and that were in London," Grace pointed out.

"Not lucky enough," Gerry replied.

"Ah, you're back," Eve said as she entered the room. "But it didn't go well."

Stella shook her head. "The exact opposite."

"Well I can tell you that the blood in the freezer is Lisa Riggs'," Eve told them. "I can also tell you that while I was waiting for someone to come and collect the freezer, I took some swabs of the door frame just in case."

Jack leant forward. "And?"

The pathologist waited for a few moments, then smiled. "I found traces of DNA, which I can match to a person once I have something to match it to." She continued quickly before anyone could speak. "I also found a full print and a partial print on the freezer."

"Anyone we know?" Brian asked.

Eve nodded. "Jack Riggs."

"Damn," Stella murmured and shook her head.

"What is it?" the pathologist asked.

"We can't get hold of Sandra or Spence," Gerry replied.

Grace looked at Boyd, who was busy pulling his phone from his pocket. "You don't think something's happened to them, do you?"

"It's ringing now," Boyd said by way of answer. "Sandra?"

*"Boyd."*

"Where the hell have you been? I've been trying to call you and Spence for hours!" He started to walk towards his office.

There was a pause. *"We were busy."*

"Doing what, exactly?"

Sandra sighed. *"We were on a plane, Boyd. We've just landed at Gatwick."*

*"What?"* Boyd roared. "Gatwick? You're not due back until tomorrow! You have some explaining to do, Superintendent Pullman, and you had better do it quickly!"

Out in the squad room, everyone looked at each other and then automatically, they all tried to make themselves look smaller. "Oh, shit," Gerry muttered.

"I think we need a bunker to hide in," Eve said.

*"Don't give me that 'Superintendent' crap, Boyd,"* Sandra snapped back. *"I made a decision, deal with you."*

"You made a cock up, you mean!" Boyd replied. "I told you not to do anything without checking with me first!"

*"There wasn't time. I didn't want Riggs to disappear, which he would have done if I had waited!"*

The use of the first person wasn't lost on Boyd; obviously Spencer hadn't agreed with her decision. "You don't know that," he told her.

*"It doesn't matter, Boyd, it's done now. We'll be back there as soon as we can."*

"The hell you will!" he shouted. "You'll stay right where you are. Spencer can sort Riggs out; you and I need to talk. I've a good mind to have you removed from this case, Pullman, and don't tell me I don't have cause to! If you cross me again during the course of this investigation, I'll have you booted out of the force quicker than you can say 'fuck'!"

*"Boyd, you bast..."*

Boyd ended the call abruptly before Sandra could finish speaking and threw his phone across the room, it landing on the couch by happy circumstance, before storming out of his office. "Did you know about this?" he asked angrily, glaring at Grace.

"About what?" the profiler asked.

"DSI Pullman has already put Jack Riggs on a plane! In fact, they just landed at Gatwick! *That's* why I couldn't get hold of her or Spence!" Boyd yelled. "And she said that you said it was okay!"

Grace looked surprised. "Oh. No, I didn't know about that. Wait! She said what? I never said that! Boyd, where are you going?"

Boyd had stormed back to his office and was heading out of the other door. "To the airport, Grace!" he snapped back.

"Do you really think that's a good idea?" she asked as she rushed after him.

"Will you ask Sandra the same question?" he retorted, rounding on her so quickly that she almost ran into him. "Will you ask her if she thought it was a good idea to completely ignore the chain of command and take things on her own back?"

"But you wanted Riggs bringing back anyway!"

"That's not the point, Grace! What if Riggs' and Hampton's stories had matched? What if there had been no reason at all bring him back? She still would have done it!" With that, Boyd marched off, Grace close at his heels, and it was obvious to the others that the argument was far from over.

"I think that might count as 'something stupid', don't you?" Brian remarked.

"I certainly wouldn't like to be at Gatwick right now," Gerry muttered.

"As long as they don't ask us to choose sides," Eve said.

Jack shook his head. "Boyd's right, though. Sandra should have waited."

"Well, she didn't, and honestly, Jack, are you surprised?" Brian asked. "She's had a bee in her bonnet about this case from the start, almost."

Gerry nodded. "If you ask me, we're going to have nothing but trouble from here on out."

"Do you think it's too late to start looking for a new job?" Stella asked after a few minutes of silence.

TBC


	17. Disagreements

NT-WtD-NT-WtD-NT-WtD

"Do you know why Sandra is acting so bullish?" Boyd asked Grace as they sped towards the airport.

"I know she feels strongly about Lisa's death for some reason, but I don't know what it is," she replied.

"Do you agree with her?"

Grace turned her head to look at him. "What are you asking me, Boyd?"

"If it came to supporting my decision or hers, which would it be?"

"That's an unfair question and you know it."

"Is it? Are you telling me Sandra didn't ask you the same thing?"

Grace grimaced. "Sometimes, Boyd, you're too smart for your own good," she said acidly.

"I'm a policeman, it's my job to know these sorts of things," he replied. "So, what did you say?"

"The same thing I'm saying to you, Boyd; don't put me in the middle of you two," Grace told him, trying to hope he wouldn't notice she was lying through her teeth.

But Boyd just nodded. "That's what I thought you would say."

The rest of the journey was spent in silence, Boyd attempting to control his temper and Grace trying to work out why she was being dishonest with him. She disagreed with him on a regular basis in the line of their work; why should this be any different? But for some reason it was; she felt like Sandra was on the right track and Boyd wasn't, and in the interest of achieving the right result, Grace knew she had to side with the female DSI.

Sandra, Spencer, and Riggs were all waiting outside the airport when Boyd and Grace arrived and out of the small group, only Riggs looked unfazed by what was happening. Spencer's face resembled a thundercloud, as did Sandra's, and Boyd was only marginally less angry. Grace looked worried; if an argument ensued, she might be forced to side with Sandra and if that happened right now, it would cause so many problems later on.

But before anyone could start anything, Boyd spoke up. "Everyone in the car, now. Mr Riggs, I'm Superintendent Boyd, this is Dr Grace Foley. I'm sorry for the sudden upheaval from your home. I hope it hasn't caused too much trouble for you."

"No, Superintendent. As I told Superintendent Pullman, I was expecting it," Riggs replied.

Boyd nodded. "I understand, but it's best if you don't say anything else. I will take you to a hotel where you will be staying, DI Jordan and Dr Foley will stay with you until we're ready to interview you. Is that clear?"

"Perfectly." As they walked towards the car, Riggs said, "I can't go anywhere anyway. Superintendent Pullman has thoughtfully taken my passport and my driver's license."

"I see," Boyd replied through gritted teeth.

The drive to the hotel was spent in strained silence, the anger from three of the car's occupants barely contained and extremely tangible. Spencer quite obviously wanted to talk to Boyd, just as Sandra clearly wanted a private word with Grace, and Riggs just found the whole situation somewhat amusing. He knew the police knew he was hiding something; he suspected they hadn't figured out exactly what it was, though, and that was why he was there. He wondered how long it would take them to discover the truth; if they continued fighting amongst themselves as they seemed to be doing at the moment, quite some time.

"I'll be back for you later," Boyd said to Grace and Spencer as he dropped them off at a hotel near to the Met building.

"Alright, Mr Riggs, let's get you settled in, shall we?" Grace said with a sigh and a forced smile.

NT-WtD-NT-WtD-NT-WtD

"What the hell do you think you're playing at?"

The two Superintendents yelled the same thing at each other at the same time, and under different circumstances, it would have been funny. But it wasn't. "I *told* you to run everything by me first, not go off half-cocked!" Boyd told her.

"I was following a legitimate lead!" Sandra replied. "Riggs' and Hampton's stories don't match, which means one of them is lying and my money is on Riggs. We wouldn't have achieved anything by just leaving him there!"

"You could have brought him back tomorrow when you were due back," Boyd said. "What was the rush?"

"I didn't want him disappearing, I told you that."

"You have no proof that he would have done!"

"I don't need proof, I know he's guilty!"

With screeching tyres, Boyd abruptly pulled over, ignoring the protests of the other drivers, killed the engine, and turned fully to look at Sandra. "What did you say?" he asked, his voice deadly quietly.

Sandra held his gaze, unafraid. "What did you find while we were away? Grace said you were all out of the office this morning," she countered.

Boyd knew he was about to step into dangerous territory. As soon as he told Sandra what they had found, she would claim she had been right all along and nothing would rid her of the notion that Riggs was guilty. Perhaps he was, but the way she was going about the investigation was rubbing Boyd up completely in the wrong direction.

"You've already started out with the supposition that Riggs is the murderer we're looking for when we haven't even decided whether Lisa *was* murdered or not," Boyd replied.

"What did you find?" Sandra demanded to know.

"The freezer which Lisa's body was kept in and that's how it was transported unnoticed into the apartment. We also found out how it was taken out of the freezer, and we have a fingerprint and a DNA sample."

"Do we know who them belong to?"

"Blood in the freezer is Lisa Riggs', DNA is as yet unknown," Boyd replied.

Sandra stared at him. "And the fingerprint?"

Boyd took a deep breath. "Eve has confirmed that it belongs to Jack Riggs but that doesn't mean anything," he said quickly.

"Bullshit!" Sandra snapped. "I bet the DNA belongs to him as well." Boyd didn't reply as he started the engine again and drove off. "Where are we going?"

"I'm taking you home and you're staying there until tomorrow. Have a bath, put some relaxing music, whatever," he replied. "Take some time out."

"I don't need..."

"You do, and it isn't a request. It's an order. You agreed to be subordinate to me in this case, so do as you're fucking well told!" Boyd yelled, his last shred of control going straight out of the window.

"I want..."

"I don't give a shit what you want."

"You're not interviewing Riggs without me being present," Sandra continued stubbornly.

"We won't be interviewing him until tomorrow anyway," Boyd replied.

"But you said..."

"I know what I said, but if I hadn't, I would never have gotten you away from him. Face facts, Pullman, nothing is happening until tomorrow and if you even try anything before then, you'll be out of a job within the hour," Boyd told her.

Sensing further argument was about as pointless as a chocolate fire guard, Sandra turned to look out of the window and kept any further thoughts to herself. But not for one second did Boyd take her silence as defeat or acquiescence; he knew her far too well to think that. He knew she was simply biding her time and planning what she would do next: it was just what he would do in her position.

Boyd dropped Sandra off at her house and left again without a word, calling Jack on the way back to the hotel. "It's Boyd."

*"Problems?"* Jack asked.

"Not exactly." He explained what had happened and the plan for the rest of the day, which consisted of everyone taking a breather...again.

*"I'm sorry, Boyd, I can't help you,"* Jack replied. *"I have no idea why she's acting this way. I do have some news from Eve, though."*

"Good, I hope," Boyd said.

*"Not exactly."*

"Then I don't want to hear it."

*"I think you do. Eve was running the DNA sample when she came to tell us the news. She wasn't hoping to get a hit...."*

"But...?" Boyd interrupted.

Jack smiled. *"Don't worry, she didn't. But what the search did turn up was what looks like two separate DNA profiles."*

Boyd was silent for a moment. "Two?"

*"Eve says she can't be sure because the amount of DNA she retrieved from the scene was minute to start with,"* Jack replied. *"But it could be."*

"Get her to check it against Lisa Riggs' DNA first, see if we can either confirm or eliminate her from this."

*"Alright. I guess we'll see you in a little while?"*

"No, you'll see us tomorrow," Boyd replied, and ended the call before redialling and phoning Spencer. The conversation was brief and terse, and when he arrived at the hotel, Grace and Spencer were waiting for him.

"She overrode me, Boyd," Spencer said as soon as he got in the car. "I tried to stop her but she wouldn't listen. She pulled rank." The distaste and anger in his voice were obvious.

"It is part of her job to take responsibility, Spence," Grace reminded him.

"This wasn't taking responsibility, Grace, this was taking over," he replied. "We'd only met the guy a couple of hours ago and then she decided she couldn't wait a little while to talk to Boyd."

"How did the meeting go?" Boyd asked before an argument could ensue.

Spencer looked out of the window. "Well. Riggs seemed to genuinely care about his wife and daughter, and was very shocked to learn about Lisa's death. He did say they had been going through a rough patch for about a year before her disappearance, it started right after her mother had died. Lisa told him she wanted a divorce, but he wouldn't give it to her because he didn't understand what had gone wrong between them. Riggs also said that he never legally adopted Izzy and after it became clear Lisa wasn't going to reappear any time soon, Dean Hampton wanted to challenge him for the right to care for Izzy. Being twenty four and having his wife just up and disappear on him, Riggs said he couldn't cope. Said he just ran away."

"Anything else?" the DSI asked. Spencer, who was sat in the back of the car, looked at Grace for a moment. Boyd, looking in the rear view mirror, caught the action. "Grace, are you going home or to mine?"

"Home, I think, but I'll call you later," she said with a smile.

Twenty minutes later, Boyd and Spencer were alone in the car. "Alright, what's going on?"

"I took something from Riggs' garden. I know what you said about playing things by the book, sir," Spencer continued before Boyd could make a remark, "But I felt it was important."

"What was it?"

"A leaf from a plant."

"A leaf from a plant," Boyd repeated slowly. "Why?"

"Because it has a fingerprint on it. All we have to go on for Jack Riggs' prints are files that are years out of date. Are we even sure they're the right ones to start with?" he asked. "I thought if I brought this back, we could use it for comparison."

"Spence, how do you know the print is his?"

"He does all his own gardening, won't let anyone else near it, other than to look at it," Spencer replied promptly.

"But now he's here...," Boyd started to say.

"I know, but this was before Sandra went gung ho on me." He sighed. "And no, she doesn't know about the leaf. If she had found out..."

"She'd have both our balls," Boyd finished. "I get it, Spence."

"So, you want me to throw it?"

"No, I'll give it to Eve, tell her to take the print and run it against what we've already got," Boyd said. "But let's keep this between us, yeah?"

"Whatever you say, boss," Spencer replied.

TBC


	18. Sharing

NT-WtD-NT-WtD-NT-WtD

The mood the next day in the office was once again sombre as everyone waited for Boyd to arrive to give them their tasks for the next nine hours, at least. Sandra in particular seemed riled up, sitting in Grace's office alone, her back to the others, her arms folded across her chest.

"I honestly don't know what's the matter with her," Jack was saying as Eve came over to the coffee machine.

"She's gone off on one over cases before," Brian pointed out.

Gerry nodded his agreement, but then added, "Not like this."

"The answer seems quite simple to me," Eve said as she poured her coffee.

The three retired officers looked at her. "Go on," Jack encouraged her.

Eve sipped her drink appreciatively. "Well, Sandra has worked hard to get where she is, and while she must be used to taking orders, I'm guessing she doesn't like it."

Gerry grunted. "Not much."

"And now she has to take orders from Boyd. Again."

"Last time they shared," Brian said.

"And this time she offered to let him take the lead," Jack added.

"I know, but that was before the case became interesting. Sort of." Eve took another mouthful of coffee, shivering slightly as she felt the much needed caffeine start to circulate around her system. "And I don't think Sandra expected Boyd to agree so readily. I think she was hoping he would share the responsibility and treat her more like an equal."

Jack was frowning. "But he has."

But Gerry was shaking his head. "I understand what Eve's saying. Boyd has taken the whole responsibility of this case on his shoulders to protect the rest of us from any fall out, and that includes Sandra."

"Who doesn't like to be protected by anyone," Brian added. "Besides, she thinks she's right. Once Sandra's got her teeth into something, she doesn't need a reason to act irrationally."

Eve smiled thinly. "Reminds me of someone else."

"Besides," Brian said, taking his glasses off to clean them, "They worked very well together last time. The same happening again was just too much to hope for."

"Brian's right," Jack agreed. "Let's just carry on as we have been doing and hope the dust settles soon."

"And keep an eye out for Sandra going completely off on one," Gerry added.

"Do you have any idea what we're doing?" Stella was asking Grace at the other side of the room, out of ear shot of the others.

Grace smiled. "Where Boyd is concerned, Stella, I never have any idea."

"At a guess, I'd say we'll be bringing Hampton and Riggs both in for questioning today," Spencer replied.

Grace looked at him. "How was Portugal?"

"How was Sandra, you mean," he replied quickly.

"Was there a problem?"

"You know there was, Grace." Spencer sighed. "Look, I know she's your friend. I'd like to think of her as one too. But she deliberately went over Boyd's head, and my objections, to prove...what?"

"Boyd has done the same before on more than one occasion," Grace pointed out.

"I don't want to argue with you, Grace," Spencer said.

Stella fought the urge to roll her eyes or scream, or both, and turned her head to see Boyd coming down the corridor. "Grâce à Dieu! Pas une minute trop tôt."

"Right, I want Dean Hampton and Jack Riggs brought here for interviewing today," he said without preamble. "Make sure they don't have any other plans for the rest of the day. I also want a check on other missing persons around the same time that Lisa Riggs disappeared. Check murders also, and see if the anomaly of a freezer comes up."

"Team distribution?" Jack asked.

"You and Spencer collect Jack Riggs, Sandra and I will go for Dean Hampton," Boyd replied, and ignored everyone's surprised expressions. "Stella, Gerry and Brian, work on the search. Grace..."

"More profiling?" she asked with a smile.

He nodded. "And when we're interviewing, I want you observing both men. Brian, Gerry, Stella, I want you in that room too. Jack and Spence, you two can interview Riggs as well, and Sandra and I will take Hampton."

"What about me?" Eve asked.

Boyd stared at her for the longest moment before replying. "Let's go and check what you've got for us already," he suggested, gesturing towards the lab. "Sandra, I'll be five minutes." Without waiting for a reply, even though he doubted one was forthcoming, Boyd followed Eve into her domain.

"There really isn't anything to check, Boyd," Eve said.

"I know," he replied, pulling an object in a bag from his pocket. "Spence brought this back from Portugal. I want you to fingerprint it, check it for DNA and anything else you find."

Eve glared at him. "Boyd!" she said in an admonishing tone.

"Spence picked it up before Sandra brought Riggs back. He thought it would help us identify Riggs."

"It could be anyone's print!" she exclaimed, studying the leaf. Boyd quickly explained the story. Eve sighed. "Alright, I'll do it. But I'm not happy about."

"I didn't ask him to bring it back," Boyd reminded her.

"No, but you're asking me to work on it."

"Look, I just want an answer, yeah? Does it match the other prints we have for Jack Riggs or not? That's all, Eve. Just a yes or no answer."

Eve studied him for a moment. "So you won't use this in the investigation otherwise?"

Boyd shook his head. "Scout's honour."

"I don't believe you, but I'll still do it." She smiled. "I'll let you know when I have that answer."

NT-WtD-NT-WtD-NT-WtD

Both teams, minus Eve, stood in the observation room watching the two men in separate interview rooms. "They both seem very calm," Grace said.

"Too calm?" Boyd asked as he sipped his drink.

"Possibly."

"But what are they hiding?" Jack asked. "That's the question."

Brian looked at him. "Who said they're hiding anything?"

"Let's not start second guessing ourselves or we'll be here all day," Sandra replied quietly, those being the first and only words she had spoken all day.

Boyd nodded in agreement and drained his cup. "Alright, let's go."

"What do you want us to ask Riggs?" Spencer said, directing his question solely to Boyd.

"I want a detailed account of the last time he saw his wife and how she seemed, not just with him but with Isabella, and if she mentioned anything about her father." He looked at Sandra. "We'll question Hampton about his daughter and granddaughter, and about Riggs too. But with kitten gloves."

"Should we ask about Sam Taylor as well?" Jack asked before a shouting match could start between the DSIs. Boyd's comment had been mildly phrased and spoken, but the ex-DCI could see the fire in Sandra's eyes that spelt trouble. He made a mental note to corner her later and gently browbeat the truth out of her.

Boyd nodded. "You can do, but I'm not expecting an affirmative answer." He clapped his hands together. "Right. Shall we?"

Jack and Spencer nodded and went to the right, Sandra and Boyd to the left. Grace took a seat in the centre of the observation room, where she could see both interviews quite clearly. Brian and Gerry sat on her left, closer to Sandra, while Stella sat on Grace's right, watching the interview with Riggs.

NT-WtD-NT-WtD-NT-WtD

"Mr Riggs, my name is Jack Halford," Jack said as he entered the room. "I believe you have already met DI Jordan."

Riggs nodded once in Spencer's direction and the police officer nodded back. "I can see the weather hasn't improved much over the last fifteen years," Riggs remarked.

Jack shrugged slightly. "We have our good times and our bad. I'm sure Portugal is the same."

"More of the good than the bad," Riggs replied.

"I realise it was a long time ago, Mr Riggs, but we need to ask you about the time leading up to, and after, your wife's disappearance."

"You mean Lisa."

Spencer nodded and looked at Jack. "He's remarried since."

"My apologies, Mr Riggs."

Riggs just waved the comment off with ease. "I'm not sure what else I can tell you."

"When we spoke to you yesterday at your home," Spencer started, unable to believe, on one level, that it had only the day before that he had met the man for the first time, "You said that your marriage to Lisa had been going through a rough patch, since her mother died a year before she disappeared. Can you explain in more detail what you meant?"

"We argued more, couldn't have a conversation that didn't end with harsh words," Riggs replied, his expression slightly haunted. "I don't know what happened, I really don't. I thought about it for an awful long time after she had gone and I still couldn't come up with an answer."

*"He's lying."* Grace's voice sounded in both Jack and Spencer's earpieces. *"But let him talk it out."*

"When her mother died, I was supportive as I had always been," Riggs continued, oblivious to the interruption. "Lisa spent a lot of time with her father during the period after Irene's death and she would leave Izzy at home with me."

"How old was Izzy?" Jack asked.

Riggs stared at the ceiling. "About fourteen, I think."

"And you were...?"

"Twenty three."

Spencer sat back in his chair. "Didn't Lisa ever want to take Izzy with her to Dean's house?"

Riggs' gaze dropped rather sharply to the DI. "No. I suggested it several times but she always said it was better for Izzy to stay with me. And yes, I did ask why that was but Lisa never gave me an answer." He sighed. "For the first couple of months following Irene's death, things were fairly normal. I mean, Lisa was close with her parents and so she was quite grief stricken, but not in the sense of biting my head off every few minutes."

"Is that how she became?" Jack asked.

Riggs nodded. "It was about four months later, and something just set her off. She came home from Dean's one day fuming. She was literally like a volcano about to explode and I just couldn't understand why." He smiled dryly. "When I asked her what was wrong, she slapped me."

*"He might not know for sure why Lisa was so pissed off, but he has a bloody good idea,"* Grace told them. *"Press him, see if you can get an answer from him."*

"Mr Riggs, are you certain you don't have any idea why Lisa was so upset?" Jack asked. "Any clue at all?"

Riggs was silence for a long moment and Spencer worried that they had lost him. But eventually, he spoke. "Perhaps."

NT-WtD-NT-WtD-NT-WtD

"Mr Hampton, thank you for coming in," Boyd said as he entered the interview room.

"Did I have a choice?" Dean replied.

"I sense a certain amount of hostility for such an informal meeting," Boyd told him as he sat down. "This is Superintendent Pullman."

*"Tread carefully, Boyd,"* Grace cautioned him. *"He could come apart at any second and while we want answers, you don't want him in pieces."*

"Can we get you a tea? Coffee?" Boyd asked, earning him a sideways glare from Sandra.

"No."

"Okay. Let's start. The year leading up to Lisa's disappearance. What can you tell us about her behaviour?"

Dean stared incredulously at Boyd, then Sandra. "Are you serious? That was seventeen years ago. How do you expect me to remember that far back?"

Boyd stared right back at him. "You never forget the time your child disappeared."

"Surely you must remember something," Sandra cut in. "Any change in Lisa's behaviour? Any comment she might have made that stuck in your mind?"

Dean sighed and dragged a hand over his face. "I'm sorry, this is difficult for me. I've spent almost twenty years wondering where my daughter and granddaughter are, and my ex-son-in-law, and now I find that Lisa is dead, Jack has been hiding in another country, and Isabella is still nowhere to be found."

"We appreciate that, Mr Hampton," Sandra said. "Which is why we need to ask these questions. It is entirely possible your daughter was murdered and if that's the case, we need to find the person who did it."

"I understand." He sighed again. "I'm not sure what to tell you. Lisa spent a lot of time with me after Irene died, but she never brought Izzy. When I asked her why not, she said she was better off with Jack. We argued a few times about that; I wanted to see my granddaughter but Lisa always left her at home. I think I saw her maybe four times in year between my wife's death and Lisa's disappearance."

*"At least that's something him and Riggs agree on,"* Grace said.

"Do you have any idea why that was the case?" Boyd asked.

"I already said...."

"Oh I know Lisa never told you, but do you have an idea why she never brought your granddaughter to see you?"

"No," Dean replied.

*"He's lying,"* Grace told them. *"But he won't give the answer up. Best to leave it and move on."*

"Did Lisa talk about Jack much?" Sandra asked.

Dean's face clouded for a moment. "Not really. No more than normal, anyway."

Boyd crossed his legs. "Mr Hampton, lying to us is not going to help. We know for a fact that you and Jack Riggs did not get along, and I believe an officer has already spoken to you about this. You led us to believe that you were all one happy family and clearly this wasn't the case. Now, did Lisa talk about Jack during the twelve months leading up to her disappearance? Did she mention that he had changed at all? Were they closer than before? Or did they argue more than before?"

There was a lengthy silence and both Sandra and Boyd thought he had lost him, but then Dean began to speak. "You're right, I never liked Jack. I thought he was an arrogant little shit who was no near good enough for my daughter, and certainly not a good enough father for Isabella. But Lisa adored him, and so did Izzy, and my wife, Irene, thought he was a nice lad, so I put up with him. I lied before because..."

"Go on," Sandra encouraged him.

"I think he had something to do with Lisa's disappearance, even her death," Dean admitted. "It just seemed strange to me that Jack disappeared as well, only a few weeks after Lisa. But I couldn't prove anything, it was just a feeling. And then Isabella went too, not long after she had seen Riggs..."

"What?" Sandra exploded.

"You knew where Riggs was," Boyd said coldly.

*"Carefully,"* Grace warned them both. *"Tread carefully, don't scare him off."*

Dean nodded. "Yes. Izzy sent me a postcard in 1996 telling me she had seen him. The postmark was from Portugal."

"You lied. Again."

"With good reason." Dean swallowed, obviously uncomfortable with what he was about to say.

"I think you had better tell us the truth," Boyd told the man in front of him.

"I thought that Jack had Lisa and Izzy captive somewhere," he admitted. "It was an irrational thought, but one I couldn't help having. I thought that if I told anyone, he would harm them. Especially after Izzy disappeared when she had seen him. I thought she had suffered the same fate as her mother." He started to wring his hands. "I decided that if I let him believe he had got away with it, then sometime in the future, he might make a mistake with...I don't know, with something, and then the police could catch him. And you have. You've found something, haven't you? That's why you brought him back."

"We can't tell you anything, Mr Hampton, I'm sorry," Boyd said.

Sandra leant forwards. "Mr Hampton, other than your...gut feeling, is there *anything* else you can tell us?"

"Only that they seemed to be arguing an awful lot in the six months leading up to Lisa's disappearance, but she never told me why," Dean replied.

*"He's telling the truth,"* Grace said.

"And then she said she wanted a divorce," he continued. "Which surprised me because, as I said before, she adored Jack."

NT-WtD-NT-WtD-NT-WtD

Out in the observation room, the door burst open and Eve came in looking harassed. "What is it?" Gerry asked in concern.

Eve only had eyes for Grace. "You need to get them in her. Now. All four of them. Right now."

Surprised by the urgency in the pathologist's voice, Grace leant forwards and spoke in the microphone. "Boyd, Sandra, Jack, Spence, Eve has some important news. You need to come in here now."

A minute later and the observation room was full again. "What is it?" Boyd asked.

"I've just had a phone call from upstairs," Eve told them. "The body of a young woman - in her early thirties, they think - has been found in a skip not five minutes from the hotel Jack Riggs is staying in."

Jack looked at Brian. "How old would Isabella...?"

"Thirty two," he replied quietly.

Boyd put one hand on his hip and ran the other through his hair. "Shit." He paced for a few moments, then stopped. "Alright, Eve, take Stella and Gerry, go and process the scene and collect the body."

"Wait, why did you get a call?" Sandra asked.

"Because the body has been frozen for a while," Eve replied grimly.

TBC

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translation of the French -  
> Grâce à Dieu! Pas une minute trop tôt – Thank God! Not a moment too soon.


	19. Accusations

NT-WtD-NT-WtD-NT-WtD

"No."

"Yes."

"No."

"Yes."

"No!"

"Yes!"

*"No!"*

*"Yes!"*

"Enough!"

Boyd and Sandra turned to glare at Brian, who had made the exasperated exclamation, before looking back at each other. "You are not going to arrest Riggs," Boyd said.

"Yes, I am," Sandra replied.

"On what charge?"

"Murder."

"Of?"

"Isabella! And his wife."

"A wonderful leap, Pullman," Boyd snapped. "Was that intuition or a stupid bloody guess?"

"I don't have to take this crap from you!" Sandra yelled back.

Boyd towered over her. "Yes, you do! You agreed to take a back seat in the leadership of this case, so you had better do just that!" As his phone began to ring, he stormed towards his office. "And if you take one step towards the interview rooms, I'll have you arrested!" he told her.

Sandra stared daggers at his retreating back, then looked at the others. "You know I'm right."

"Actually, Sandra, Boyd does have a point," Jack said mildly.

"Whose side are you on?"

"The side of the truth. Whose side are *you* on?"

Sandra ignored him and Grace tried to think where she had heard those words before. "Isn't it a bit of a coincidence that the body of young woman turns up near Riggs' hotel the day after he returns to the country?"

"That's all it is, a coincidence," Spencer replied, then turned to look at his computer as it beeped. "Oh...shit."

Brian's computer made a similar noise two seconds later and his exclamation was only a fraction milder. "Bloody hell."

"What is it?" Jack asked, going to Brian while Grace went to Spencer. Sandra just stayed where she was and sulked.

"Missing persons," Spencer replied.

"And murders," Brian added.  
"Boyd asked us to look into it, remember? We had the computers running searches while we were watching the interviews."

"And they've come back with some surprising results." Brian looked at Spencer. "You first."

The DI grinned. "Age before beauty."

As Brian glared at him over the top of his glasses, Jack held his hands up. "Ladies, you can fight over your handbags later. Spence, what does the list say?"

"I've got six women who disappeared around the same time Lisa did," he replied. "Four went missing the year leading up to Lisa's disappearance, two afterwards. And five of those women have a note next to them...." He looked at Brian.

"Five women were found dead in various places over a nine year period, from 1993 to 2002, but they had been murdered around the time they disappeared, their bodies preserved in freezers," Brian replied. "They are the missing women. Only one hasn't been found, a Jackie Burns."

"So this body could be her?" Grace suggested.

Sandra's expression was incredulous. "Doesn't anyone else see the connection? Didn't the police at the time make the connection?"

Spencer looked at her. "That's what we've got to find out. Obviously not."

"That man in there is our killer!" she shouted, stabbing a finger towards the interview room.

"We don't know that," Jack replied, his patience wearing thin. "After all, Riggs hasn't been back to England at all since he left in 1991. His passport proves that!"

Boyd walked back in looking sombre. "That was the Commissioner?"

"Bad news?" Grace asked.

"Apparently he knows something we don't, about six other women who disappeared around the same time as Lisa Riggs. He wants to know why we didn't know about it."

"We just found out," Brian replied.

Boyd just nodded. "The Commissioner seems to think there's a connection."

"Five of the women have been found," Spencer told him. "The sixth is still missing, though at a guess, I'd say it's more like she's a corpse waiting to be found."

"Why don't you ask Riggs?" Sandra said.

"He is not our first suspect," Boyd replied.

"Well he should be! When did the last woman disappear, Brian?" Sandra asked, her gaze locked with Boyd's.

"12th November 1991," he replied.

"And when did Riggs leave the country?"

"14th of that month."

"It doesn't prove anything," Boyd replied in frustration.

"Six women go missing and five later turn up having been frozen. Lisa Riggs disappears around the same time and also turns up having been frozen. Isabella Riggs has also disappeared; what do you want to bet that she'll turn up frozen at some point as well?" Sandra asked sarcastically. "The two cases are linked, Boyd. Everyone here can see it, why can't you?"

"Not everyone, Sandra," Jack said.

"What?"

"You heard me. In fact, I think only you can see it."

"Now wait a minute...."

"Oh, enough! All of you!" Grace snapped, then looked at Boyd. "What else did the Commissioner say?"

The muscles in his cheek rippled as he clenched and unclenched his jaw. "He seems to agree with Sandra...." Her expression turned exceedingly smug. "...But he doesn't think Riggs is our man."

*"What?"*

Everyone in the room winced at Sandra's rather high-pitched exclamation. "You heard me. Though it you want to call him and check for yourself...." Boyd left the suggestion hanging.

"So now what?" Jack asked.

"We carry on with the interviews, see if either Hampton or Riggs know anything about the disappearances of these other women, see if Riggs knows Sam Taylor," Boyd replied. "Grace, help Brian go through the records."

"I think someone should observe," Spencer said.

"I can manage," Brian replied. "Besides, it'll be nice to have the office to myself for a while. And Gerry'll be back soon."

"You hope," Grace murmured.

But Boyd nodded his agreement. "Fine, Brian, you carry on with that. Grace, you can observe."

"Do we tell Hampton about the body?" Sandra asked.

"Why would we do that?"

"It would make identification of the woman easier," she replied. "If it isn't Isabella, then we can sort of forget about it, but if it is..."

"I wouldn't question him directly," Grace cautioned them. "Find a way around it. Ask him if Isabella had any distinguishing marks, say it's because you're trying to build a picture up of her or something, but don't tell him a body has been found and we think it could be his granddaughter. In my opinion, that would be a very bad move."  
"Alright," Boyd said. "Shall we?"

NT-WtD-NT-WtD-NT-WtD

"Sorry about that, Mr Riggs," Jack said as he and Spencer re-entered the room. "Something urgent came up."

"It usually does, especially when a story is about to get interesting," he replied.

"Is it about to get interesting?" Spencer asked.

Riggs half-smiled. "Perhaps for you. Me, I've heard this story before."

"Well why don't you share it with us now?" Jack suggested.

"I'm about to."

*"Be careful. He's had time to prepare himself and what he's about to say,"* Grace told them. *"You might get a version of the truth, though whether it's the one we want or not is a different matter."*

Jack fought the urge to turn around and point out that the truth didn't have versions. Instead, he sat back in his chair and gestured for Riggs to continue. "Please. We're listening."

"You asked me if I had any idea at all why Lisa was so upset with me, and I think I do. I think she thought I was having an affair."

"And where you?" Spencer asked.

"Of course not. I loved my wife," Riggs replied. "And then I began to think that perhaps it was Lisa who was having the affair and that's where she kept going, rather than to her father's. So one day I asked Dean about it." He smiled thinly. "I won't repeat what he said to me."

Jack looked sceptical. "You can still remember the exact words from a conversation almost twenty years ago?"

"Can't you?" Riggs replied. "Besides, you don't tend to forget the day your father-in-law calls you a sycophantic, narcissistic, bastard-son-of-a-whore eunuch."

Spencer's eyes went wide as Jack raised his eyebrows. "Indeed," the ex-DCI said.

"Mr Riggs, does the name Sam Taylor mean anything to you?" Spencer asked.

Riggs blinked. "Sam Taylor? Of course, why?"

"Who is he?" Spencer replied.

"He was best man at my wedding to Lisa."

NT-WtD-NT-WtD-NT-WtD

"Sorry for the interruption, Mr Hampton," Boyd said as he and Sandra re-entered the room.

"Not a problem. I hope everything's okay."

"You told us before that you hadn't heard from Isabella for a number of years, but then you said you had heard from her in 1996," Sandra replied. "So we need to ask you again: have you seen or heard from your granddaughter since then? And please don't lie to us."

Dean shook his head. "That was the last time, I swear."

Boyd leant forward. "Did your granddaughter have any distinguishing marks, Mr Hampton? Anything that might help us find her?"

"Not really."

"Piercings? Tattoos? Anything like that?" Sandra asked.

"No. Oh, wait." Dean frowned. "Yes, she did have a tattoo. Just the one, as far as I knew. It was a blue butterfly, on her right hip."

*"That was a fake reply. He didn't forget that little detail at all,"* Grace said. *"But you didn't need me to tell you that. But Riggs has just told Jack and Spence he thinks Lisa thought he was having an affair."*

"Did Lisa ever confide in you?" Sandra asked.

"Of course. We were very close," Dean replied.

"Did she ever say she thought her husband was cheating on her?" Boyd took up the questioning.

"No, never."

*"He's lying,"* Grace said.

"Did you know if she was having an affair or not?"

"No!" Dean replied vehemently.

Grace then passed on the information about Sam Taylor, and both Boyd and Sandra exchanged glances. "Mr Hampton, were you at your daughter's wedding?" Sandra asked.

Dean stared at her. "Of course I was."

"And do you remember who Jack Riggs' best man was?"

Dean paled but didn't reply.

"Mr Hampton, you told us that the name Sam Taylor didn't ring any bells," Boyd said, leaning on the table. "You lied. Again. Give me one good reason why I shouldn't arrest you now for obstructing justice."

"I didn't know!" he exclaimed feebly. "When you asked me, I had honestly forgotten about Sam Taylor. Though how I managed that, I don't know. I never like him, obnoxious little brat he was. Him and Jack were like two peas in a bad pod. It wasn't until later that I recalled the name and just never thought to tell you. I'm sorry."

Sandra sighed. "Mr Hampton, if you're keeping anything else to yourself, now is the time to share it."

NT-WtD-NT-WtD-NT-WtD

"Your best man?" Jack repeated in surprise.

Riggs nodded. "Why do you want to know about Sam?"

"Were you good friends?" Spencer asked, deflecting the question.

"Best friends growing up," Riggs said with a smile. "We'd do everything boys growing up together will do. Got into trouble, and out of it, with each other. Climbed trees and chased girls with each other."

*"But...,"* Grace prodded.

"But...," Jack repeated.

"But as quite often happens when people grow up, he started to changed. When I married Lisa, he was great, just like he had been when we were kids, but at about...I don't know, twenty two or three, I guess, he began to really change. Became violent and overly aggressive, really psycho." Riggs' expression suddenly shifted, as though he had just realised something. "In fact, that year things started to go wrong between me and Lisa, before she disappeared, Sam went completely nuts. Started stalking women, even tried to kidnap one once, but me and couple of other guys stopped him." He shook his head. "We didn't talk much that year because I had my own problems, and ever time I saw Sam, I felt the strong urge to kick his head in. And then after Lisa had gone...well, no one knew where to find me, though if they had tried, they could have managed it, I'm sure. But he never even tried. It wasn't years later that I found out, quite by accident, that he had been a drug addict since the age of twenty." He shook his head again. "How can you miss your best friend turning into a junkie?"

"You were busy with your family," Jack said.

Riggs shrugged, nodded, then shook his head. "That's no excuse, though. Not for friends."

"How did you find out he was a junkie?" Spencer asked.

"In his obituary," Riggs replied.

"When was that?"

Riggs stared at the ceiling. "2002."

Jack and Spencer looked at each other, both thinking the same thing, as was Grace. "*He could well be the one who kidnapped those women, and it is entirely possible he was responsible for Lisa's disappearance and subsequent death, too,"* she said. *"Ask him how Sam was with Lisa."*

"Mr Riggs, did Sam and Lisa get along?" Jack asked.

Riggs almost looked amused. "Wouldn't it be easier if the person behind that glass came in and asked the questions directly, rather than through you?"

"Please answer the question."

But he was silent, looking at the wall to his right. "You've got someone else in there, haven't you? That's why there's someone back there, observing us both. Who is it?"

*"He's worried,"* Grace said, surprised.

"Nothing you need to concern yourself about," Spencer told Riggs with a smile.

"It's Dean, isn't it?" Riggs asked. "And I'll bet he's telling your colleague all the reasons why I'm to blame for Lisa's disappearance, and her death as well, I'd wager."

*"Odd. He didn't mention Isabella."*

"If it is Mr Hampton in the next room, why would he say such things?" Jack asked.

"I told you, we didn't get along."

Spencer looked at him. "What about Isabella?"

Riggs blinked. "Excuse me?"

"You said that you wouldn't be surprised if Mr Hampton was blaming you for Lisa, but you never mentioned your step-daughter?"

"What does Izzy have to do with any of this? All you know for certain is that she's disappeared. No one has said anything about dead."

*"Tread carefully, he's very defensive about Isabella,"* Grace cautioned them.

But before Jack or Spencer could speak again, Riggs blurted out, "Oh my God, you've found a body, haven't you? You think it's Izzy. When? Where? How?"

Jack held his hands up in a calming gesture. "I'm afraid we can't tell you anything at the moment, Mr Riggs."

"But can you tell us if Isabella has any distinguishing marks?" Spencer asked.

"A tattoo...of a...a blue butterfly, on her right hip," Riggs replied brokenly.

*"Jack, Spence, I think you should wrap it up,"* Grace suggested. *"Eve is back from the scene, and Boyd and Sandra are finishing up in the next room. We have a lot to discuss."*

Spencer glanced at Jack, who nodded. "Excuse me for a moment, Mr Riggs." He left the interview and sighed loudly when he saw Grace. "What do you think?"

She smiled. "You mean 'do I think he's guilty?'"

Spencer smiled back. "Yeah."

"I'm not passing judgement until we've all discussed this properly...as a team," she replied.

"Fair enough." He stared through the glass. "Grace, I'm sorry if I seem to be a little...Boyd-ish on this case. But Sandra's just...she's driving me crazy and I just don't understand why! I mean, I don't understand Boyd sometimes, but even he doesn't get me this riled." Grace raised an eyebrow at him. "Okay, so he does, it's just...."

"Sandra's essentially an outsider and you don't like her telling you what to do," Grace said. "It's understandable."

He just nodded but couldn't have said more even if he had wanted to as Sandra and Boyd chose that moment to walk in. "Well?" Boyd asked, though it wasn't clear whether his question was directed at Grace or Spencer.

"Interesting. I think we have a lot to discuss as a team," Grace replied.

"Boss, we're all done. What should we do with Riggs?" Spencer asked.

"Get someone to take him back to the hotel, but post a watch on him too," Boyd said.

Grace stood as Spencer left the room. "Eve's back. But...," she added quickly as both Superintendents turned to head towards the lab. "...She said that if either of you disturb her, or send anyone else to disturb her, she will go on strike for one whole month. Not only that, but she'll lock the lab and run away with the keys."

"So...leave her be?" Sandra suggested.

Boyd nodded. "For now." He looked around as he heard a door and saw Jack and Spencer coming into the observation room. "Find out anything interesting?"

"Oh, yes," Jack replied. "You?"

"Maybe," Sandra said.

"Team meeting?" Spencer suggested.

"Where do you think I've been trying to get you all for the past five minutes?" Grace muttered.

TBC


	20. Leads

NT-WtD-NT-WtD-NT-WtD

"So," Boyd said, sipping appreciatively at a cup of coffee. "Who wants to go first?"

"As in us, you or them?" Gerry asked.

Boyd nodded. "As in exactly that."

"We might as well," Sandra replied. "Dean Hampton said that Lisa hardly ever brought his granddaughter to see him after his wife's death, but wouldn't say why, but Grace thinks he's lying and so do we. He also knew that Isabella had been to see Riggs not long before she disappeared. He never told us his dislike for his son-in-law because he felt that Riggs had something to do with Lisa and Izzy's disappearance, and saying something might have scared him off. Leaving it meant Riggs would relax."

"So Hampton knew where Riggs was the whole time?" Gerry asked, his arms folded.

"Not the exact area, but certainly the country," Boyd replied. "He also told us about a tattoo Isabella had, on her right hip, of a blue butterfly."

"Riggs told us the same," Spencer said.

Sandra nodded. "Good. That's something else they agreed on."

"And he knew who Sam Taylor was the whole time," Boyd finished. "But he didn't give us a very satisfactory answer as to why he lied. That's it."

Stella looked surprised. "You found Sam Taylor?"

Sandra turned her head. "Jack."

"So I guess it's us next," the ex-DCI said dryly. "Sam Taylor was Riggs' best man at his wedding, though they didn't talk much in later years, particularly the year leading up to Lisa's disappearance. Riggs said Taylor was becoming violent and he stopped him from kidnapping a woman. Taylor was a junkie and died in 2002."

"Which is when the bodies of the women who had disappeared stopped appearing," Spencer continued. "Five over a nine year period, right? And then nothing for six years? I'm willing to bet that Taylor was the kidnapper and murderer of those six women."

"If this body that Eve is examining is the sixth woman, how has she just been found now?" Grace asked.

"Maybe Riggs and Taylor were working together," Sandra suggested.

But Gerry shook his head. "Unlikely."

"Why?"

"Finish what you were telling us, Jack," Gerry said, waving Sandra's question away with his hand.

"Riggs thinks Lisa thought he was having an affair, that's why they fought so much during the twelve months leading up to her disappearance," Jack replied. "But he hardly mentioned Isabella."

Spencer half-smiled and looked at the retired officer. "You know he never answered the question about how Taylor and Lisa got along."

Jack thought about it and then shook his head. "You're right, he didn't. He deflected."

"He guessed we'd found a body and assumed it was Isabella," Spencer said. "And he seemed pretty upset about it."

Boyd nodded and ran a hand through his hair. "Grace?"

"Riggs was very defensive about his step-daughter," the profiler replied. "More than a father would be of his daughter." She shook her head. "Something didn't seem right with that little scene. He was very defensive of her, almost as though he knows something we don't, which is entirely possible, but it was like...she was still alive, to him at least. Yet he seemed genuinely upset that we might have found her."

"So...he's crazy," Brian suggested.

Sandra, Jack and Gerry all turned to look at him. "Please tell me you didn't just say that," Sandra said.

Brian looked insulted. "What?"

"No, he isn't crazy," Grace continued with a smile. "But there's something more to this than we think."

"What about Dean Hampton?" Stella asked.

"Now he is definitely more complicated."

Both Boyd and Sandra looked surprised. "Really?"

Grace's smile grew. "When I was constructing my profiles, he was the one I was more concerned about. Quite a lot of his replies to your questions were schooled, like when he told you about Isabella's tattoo. He was also lying when he said Lisa had never mentioned anything about her fears that Jack was cheating on her. In fact, I think he knew exactly who Riggs was having an affair with."

"Wait, Riggs said he wasn't having an affair and you said he was telling the truth!" Spencer exclaimed.

"I don't mean affair as in sexual relations, Spence," Grace replied. "But his heart was definitely with someone else. I think he thought a lot about this person, maybe even spent a lot of time with them, and that was why Lisa was jealous. Because her husband didn't love her any more."

"Bit of a leap," Gerry said, his tone sceptical.

"Could it be the late Sam Taylor?" Stella asked, and then shrugged when everyone stared at her. "What? Just because Riggs said he didn't see a lot of him doesn't mean it's true, does it?"

Grace smiled. "No, it doesn't, but I believe he was telling the truth."

Jack nodded. "So do I."

"Anything else about Hampton that you can tell us?" Boyd asked the profiler.

Grace hesitated and drew a deep breath, knowing what she was about to say would cause great ripples through both teams. "Just one more thing: I think he knows who was responsible for his daughter's death."

"You mean he knows who killed her?" Sandra asked incredulously.

"No, I mean who is responsible. Lisa's death could have been an accident."

"Yeah, but putting her in a freezer for X-number of years wasn't," Boyd replied.

Grace held her hands up. "That's as far as I've got. If I figure anything else out, you'll be the first to know."

Sandra looked at Gerry. "Right, your turn."

He looked at Stella and smiled. "See? They saved the best 'til last."

"Gerry." Sandra's tone carried all promises of pain and mutilation if he didn't start talking immediately.

"The body was that of a woman in her early thirties," he started. "She had been hurriedly wrapped in plastic and dumped in the skip quite unceremoniously."

"How can you tell?" Brian asked.

Stella looked at her notes. "The plastic was torn and scuffed in places and we matched those marks with the rubbish in the skip."

"She was also naked and looked as though she had been beaten before being frozen," Gerry continued.

Jack looked over his shoulder. "Brian, have you got the information handy on those five women who disappeared?"

Brian nodded. "Similar MO, though not the wrapping in plastic and dumping. But they were all beaten before freezing and then left in places where they would be easily spotted."

Boyd leant forwards on the desk. "Alright, let's look at this hypothetically for a moment. Sam Taylor is the man who kidnapped and murdered six women, leaving five of them to be found over a period of nine years. But he dies before he can dispose of the sixth. Someone finds it, possibly accidentally, and panics. They don't know what to do, so they dump it in a skip, yeah? Now the person who did that *could* be the same person who killed Lisa, if she was murdered."

"Because of the care shown with the body?" Brian asked and Boyd nodded.

"Which brings us right back to Jack Riggs," Sandra said.

"Possibly," Jack corrected her.

"Where there any distinguishing marks on the body?" Grace asked.

"No blue butterfly tattoos, if that's what you mean," Gerry replied.

"So it isn't Isabella," Boyd said.

Stella shrugged. "I think only Eve can say that for certain, sir."

"But we don't think it's her," Boyd continued.

Gerry shook his head. "No, I don't think so."

Brian was staring thoughtfully at the ceiling. "Is there any way we can get hold of some of Sam Taylor's DNA?" he asked.

Jack stared at him. "Why?"

"To either tie him to the murders or eliminate him completely. Fingerprints would do as well."

"If he was a junkie, the chances are he'll have a file," Spencer replied. "He's probably one of the hundreds we pulled up."

"Yeah, but now we know roughly when he was born and what kind of offences he would have a record for, it shouldn't be too difficult to find him," Sandra said.

"Fingerprints wouldn't do as well," Stella disagreed. "We would need a DNA sample to make a solid case against him."

Eve burst into the squad room at that point, looking fairly pleased with herself. "Do you want the good news first or the bad news?"

"Do you even have to ask?" Jack said.

"Right. Bad news, if you can call it that, is that the body is not Isabella Riggs," Eve replied.

"We'd kind of figured that one out already," Sandra told the pathologist.

Eve looked a little put out. "Should I just go back to the lab then?"

Grace smiled. "Of course not. I'll fill you in later. Go on."

"Well, the good news is I've got some foreign DNA off the body and the plastic she was wrapped in."

Brian handed her a photo he had just printed out. "Is that her?"

Eve looked surprised. "Yes. Who is she?"

"Jackie Burns," he replied and was about to launch into an explanation when Gerry held his hands up.

"Allow me, Brian. We'll be here all day if you do it." Ignoring the glare from his colleague, Gerry told Eve about the missing women, and also quickly filled her in on the information they had gleaned from the interviews.

"So if I can match the DNA to Sam Taylor...," she said.

"We'd have to exhume the body, though," Spencer pointed out.

Brian typed something into his computer. "Taylor wasn't married, didn't have any children, and no family. Except for a brother. Lawrence Taylor. I've got an address," he said, looking around at the team.

Boyd looked at Sandra. "What do you think?"

"I'm not sure the Commissioner would be too happy if we started digging up graves," she replied.

"What if we take a DNA sample from the brother?" Stella suggested. "That would give us a close enough comparison...wouldn't it?" She looked at Eve, who nodded.

"We would also have more cause for digging up Sam Taylor's body if we get a match," the pathologist said.

"Do you want me to set up a meeting?" Jack asked.

Boyd nodded. "Ask him if he'll come here. It'll be easier."

"Anything else?" Sandra asked Eve.

"Yes. The toxicology report on Lisa's body." There was a brief silence as everyone turned their attention to the scientist. "She had an unusual amount of sleeping tablets in her system. Now normally it wouldn't have shown up so long after death, but because she was frozen, the toxins were sealed in her body, so even after she...well, thawed, they're still quite prominent in her blood."

Gerry looked thoughtful. "Murder?"

Eve's expression crumpled slightly. "I don't think so. An overdose of pills is ninety nine percent always suicide."

Grace nodded in agreement. "Which means we're looking at...what? Concealment of the body?"

"Perverting the course of justice, at the very most," Jack replied.

"Unless..." Brian took his glasses off, his expression very thoughtful. "Unless someone did this to try and frame someone else. Unless they thought it was a good opportunity to get even."

"For what?" Sandra asked.

He shrugged. "I'm not sure."

Boyd leant back and stretched his arms behind his head. "Alright, so, we need to find out who those DNA samples from Jackie Burns' body and the plastic she was wrapped in belong to."

"The computer's already working on it," Eve replied.

"We need to get Lawrence Taylor in her and ask him about his brother."

"I'm on that," Jack said.

"We need to pull up the information for Sam Taylor," Boyd continued.

Spencer turned to his computer. "I've got it."

"And we need some coffee," Sandra put in, and everyone turned to Stella.

"Why me?" she asked.

"Because you're the only one who can work the machine," Eve said.

"Because you make good coffee," Grace added.

"Because I asked you too," Sandra replied.

Boyd just looked at her.

"Okay, okay, I'm making coffee!"

TBC


	21. Appearance

NT-WtD-NT-WtD-NT-WtD

"Lawrence Taylor's here," Spencer announced, poking his head through the double doors.

Boyd nodded. "Put him in interview room one, Spence. Thanks."

It was late in the afternoon, lunch having only just been consumed, and both teams were still desperate for answers. Everything now hinged on what Eve came up with, and it was frustrating to the officers to say the least.

"Sandra, you and Jack take care of Mr Taylor," Boyd said. "Grace and I will observe."

If Sandra was surprised, she didn't show it. "Alright. Line of inquiry?"

"His brother and his habits. See if he'll willingly give us a DNA sample."

"And fingerprints," Gerry suggested, then shrugged when everyone looked at him. "You never know."

"What do you want us to do, sir?" Stella asked.

Boyd looked at her. "Pull everything together on the six murdered women, Sam Taylor, and find me Is..."

"Isabella Riggs!" everyone in the room chorused.

"He seems nervous," Spencer said when his four colleagues entered the observation room.

"Probably wondering what the police want with him," Grace replied.

"Maybe he hasn't paid his tax," Jack suggested.

Sandra looked at him. "We'll soon find out. Come on."

"Spence, get the kit from the lab," Boyd said as he sat down.

"Fingerprints too?"

"Yeah. Let's be ready."

"Is it me or does he look like the man who Mrs Kiernan said she leased the apartment to," Grace said quietly.

Boyd shook his head. "It isn't just you. But then again, every man in this investigation so far could fit that profile."

"Good afternoon, Mr Taylor, thank you for coming in on such short notice," Sandra said as she entered the room. "I'm DSI Pullman, this is my colleague, Jack Halford."

Lawrence Taylor was a tall man with the potential to be fairly big built, but his shoulders were rounded, his eyes watery, and he looked like he belonged in the body of a much smaller man. "You were the one who telephoned me," he said, looking at Jack.

"That's right, Mr Taylor."

"How can I help?"

"We'd like to talk to you about your brother," Sandra said.

Lawrence smiled thinly. "Which one?"

"How many do you have?" Jack asked.

"Two, although I can probably guess which one you want to discuss." He sighed. "Sam was always a good lad – I say that because I'm the eldest – but at eighteen, I think, he found drugs, and then..." He spread his hands, the gesture explaining everything.

"Was he the youngest?" Sandra asked.

Lawrence shook his head. "The middle child, which perhaps explains his brutish behaviour in his later years. He was always a slightly reckless boy, but that recklessness turned into something dangerous as he aged. As heartless as it may sound, I was relieved when he died. Although I have lost more than one brother."

Jack leant forward. "What do you mean?"

"My youngest brother, Terence, was the likeable rogue of the family, a stark comparison to my seriousness and Sam's recklessness. But I lost him when he was eighteen."

"I'm sorry. How did he die?"

Lawrence looked at him quizzically. "He didn't, although as good as." He sighed. "When Sam was in his early twenties, he tried to kidnap a woman. Terence and some other lads stopped him."

Sandra's expression became intent. "Do you remember the names of these other men?"

"I think there was only two of them, one I don't remember the name of, but the other was Jack Riggs, Sam's friend since childhood. I never got along with him, being a good few years old than them, but Terence hero-worshipped the pair of them," Lawrence explained. "They managed to stop Sam from making a mistake with that woman, but later, Terence confronted Sam about it and Sam..." He swallowed thickly. "Terry's in a coma, has been since that day. Sam beat him so badly that when I found him, I thought he was dead."

"There was an assault charge on Sam's criminal record," Jack said.

"I didn't want to report him," Lawrence replied. "I mean, he's my brother. But I had to."

"Mr Taylor, we believe that your brother may have been responsible for a series of attacks on women between 1993 and 2002," Sandra said. "Six women went missing and five subsequently turned up dead after being frozen for an amount of time. The sixth, though, has only just appeared."

"Oh my God." Lawrence crossed one arm over his chest and clapped the other hand over his mouth. "I always knew he was unhinged, but this...?"

"Is there anything you can tell us about Sam's habits that might help us to prove his guilt or innocence one way or another?"

There was silence for a few moments and then a distinct look of distaste came over Lawrence's face. "My father left Sam several properties."

"He doesn't look too happy about that," Grace muttered.

"I don't blame him," Spencer replied.

"Why?" Jack asked.

"In the hopes it would...straighten him out. I was already successful, and Terence had a promising career ahead of him, but Sam...to put it quite bluntly, he was a bum. My father wanted to help him, but all that happened was that Sam had plenty of places to hold wild parties and to crash when he had taken too much."

"Could you give us a list of those properties, if you know them?" Sandra asked.

"Yes, of course. Do you have some paper and a pen? Thank you," he said as Jack slid the items to him.

"Who knows the addresses of several properties that aren't even theirs off the top of their head?" Boyd asked. Neither Grace nor Spencer had an answer.

"Mr Taylor, with your permission, we would also like a sample of your DNA," Sandra said.

"And a copy of your fingerprints too," Jack added, then smiled. "If it's not too much trouble."

Lawrence sighed, and out in the observation room, Grace frowned and leant forwards slightly. "What?" Boyd asked.

"That sigh, it almost seemed...well, resigned, like he knew what he was going to be asked for and came prepared to give it up," she replied.

Boyd turned. "Spence, take care of it."

The DI nodded and entered the interview room. He was silent as he went about his task, swabbing Taylor's mouth and then printing him. Jack handed him the property list before he went back into the observation room.

"I'll get these straight to Eve," he said. "And this to Stella."

"What do you think?" Boyd asked.

"He's hiding something."

"We all hide things, Grace, but is he hiding something important to this case?"

She looked at Boyd and smiled. "If I knew the answer to that, it would mean I was a mind reader and wildly rich."

"Take an educated guess."

"Yes, I think he's holding something back which is related to the case, although I think it's to do with the body of Jackie Burns more than the body of Lisa Riggs and her missing daughter."

Spencer came back in the room, his expression somewhat grim. "Eve wants to see us. She said it was important."

Boyd clicked the microphone on. "Sandra, Jack, wrap it up. Eve's got something for us. Spence, tell Stella."

"Already did. She's staying the squad room, says she'll working on sorting through Sam Taylor's properties and see if there's a match with where the women's bodies were found," he replied. "But Brian and Gerry will be there."

"What is it?" Sandra asked as she and Jack entered the room.

Boyd just stood, his expression somewhat grim. "We're about to find out."

Though silent expression communication, Boyd had guessed that Eve's news had something to do with the print Spencer had brought back, and what followed promised to be mildly ugly.

"What have you got for us?" he asked once they were all surrounding the pathologist.

She looked at him briefly and he just nodded, giving her permission to tell them. "Alright, I've analysed this leaf and I..."

Boyd was surprised; she had spoken two more words than he expected she would before the room exploded in angry and incredulous exclamations, the general consensus being, "What leaf?"

Eve held up the offending article. "This leaf that was brought back from Portugal."

Sandra swung on Spencer. "You bastard! I knew you were up to something, but this? After the grilling I've been getting about playing things by the book?"

Before Spencer could retort, Boyd spoke up, his voice quiet. "I asked him to do it."

*"What?"*

"Oh, Boyd," Grace said in a disappointed tone.

But Sandra was having none of it. "Bullshit! You didn't ask him to go and inspect every bloody leaf on the chance you might find a bloody fingerprint!"

"No, I asked him to keep an eye out for anything we could use as a check for our prints on Riggs," Boyd replied.

"Come on, Sandra, it's not that bad," Gerry said. "We've all done it at one time or another."

"It's not like we're not tampering with evidence or anything, just seeking a little confirmation," Brian added.

"It was a pointless exercise," Grace said. "It can't be used in court, so why bother?"

"To be sure," Jack told her quietly. "Look, it's done now, what does it matter?"

"Anyway, it isn't Riggs'," Eve continued.

There was a brief silence, a lull in the storm, before the entire group exploded again, each trying to outdo the person next to them. Boyd was having a slinging match with Grace and Sandra, while Stella tore strips from Spencer, who gave as good as he was getting, with Gerry, Jack and Brian mediating the arguments or fuelling them, the pathologist wasn't sure. After a few minutes, though, she decided to get their attention.

"But," Eve continued loudly, "I found out who the fingerprint belongs to."

"What?" came the incredulous reply.

"Yes. I found its owner, and you are not going to believe who it is."

"Isabella Riggs?" Brian guessed.

Gerry looked at him. "Don't be daft, Brian." He turned suddenly. "Wait...is it?"

Eve smirked and nodded.

"It's isn't," Jack said in surprise.

"It is," Eve replied. "It seems her prints were on file – no, I don't know why and I'm not interested enough to ask – and on a...well, I suppose you could call it a whim or a hunch, I tested it and came up with a match that would stand in any court."

"Except it couldn't be used in court because of the way the print was obtained," Sandra retorted sarcastically. "And any prosecution worth their salt would want to know why we tested it against Isabella Riggs in the first place!"

Boyd glared at her, forcing a silence. "How long do you think the print has been on that leaf?" Grace asked Eve, and while the scientist knew she was playing diplomat, there was still a cold edge to her voice. Clearly she agreed with Sandra on the tactics that had been used.

Eve, though, was like a duck with water running off its back. "Not long. A few days at the most in good weather. In bad weather, the first rain would wash it away."

"So Jack Riggs know where Isabella is," Spencer said.

Boyd sighed. "We'd better bring him back in, then."

NT-WtD-NT-WtD-NT-WtD

Stella stared at the computer screen in surprise, wondering how a man who had been a junkie for most of his life, who had a long criminal record and a short employment one, could afford to keep up so many properties. Her suspicious nature began to rear its head and she found the list of possibilities for the answer to that question about as long as Sam Taylor's job record. Leaning over to Spencer's desk, the DC grabbed the list of locations where the bodies of the five women had been found, and scribbled Jackie Burns' name at the bottom, along with the street name the skip had been in. On a hunch, on a separate piece of paper, she wrote Lisa Riggs' name and the flat she had been found in. Even though they were almost certain Taylor didn't kill and freeze Lisa's body, Stella wanted to be certain. Too much was resting on this case for all them to leave anything to chance.

Picking up a pencil, she began to correlate the information Spencer had found on the women with the locations of Taylor's properties. With careful precision, she marked off each and every one: first body found within a minute of a warehouse in Taylor's name; second body, a house; third body, another warehouse; fourth body, an apartment; fifth body, another house.

"Sixth body, Jackie Burns," Stella murmured to herself. "Another apartment. Merde."

But she could find nothing to say that Sam Taylor had ever leased or owned the apartment Lisa Riggs was found in. Nothing even remotely in the area. Whatever connection he had to the family, it was quite certain now he had nothing to do with her disappearance or death. Which led them right back to the only other two men in Lisa's life; her father and her husband.

Stella looked up as the doors to the squad room opened and a woman with a tanned complexion walked in looking slightly lost. "May I help you?" the young DC asked.

"Yes, I'm looking for my husband," the woman replied, her English perfect and unaccented, not what Stella was expecting at all, though the answer confused her a little.

"Your husband?" the DC repeated.

"Yes. Jack Riggs."

"And your name?"

"Isobel Riggs." There Stella caught a slight accent, somewhere in the Mediterranean, she guessed, and she vaguely remembered Sandra and Spencer saying something about Riggs' wife in Portugal.

*'So this must be her,'* the young DC thought. *'But why is she here?'* Outwardly, Stella nodded and led the woman to Grace's office. "Please wait in here." She then crossed to her desk but halfway there, her step faltered. A far out thought seeded itself in her mind and quickly began to grow. "It can't be that simple...can it?" she murmured, finally picking up the phone and dialling the lab. "Eve? Stella. Tell Boyd and Sandra to get in here right now. In fact, I think you should all come..." Listening to her colleague speak, the Frenchwoman cast a glance at the person occupying Grace's office. "Oh yes, it's important.

TBC


	22. Surprise

NT-WtD-NT-WtD-NT-WtD

"What was so important?" Boyd asked as soon as Stella came into sight. Which was very soon after they left the lab; she was waiting a foot inside the squad room at the other side of the double doors looking quite agitated.

"We have a visitor," she replied, indicating Grace's office with her head.

"Who is she?" Spencer asked.

Gerry shrugged. "Dunno, but I'd like to."

Sandra glared at him. "Down, Gerry."

"That is Isobel Riggs. Jack Riggs' wife," Stella replied.

Grace's eyebrows almost disappeared into her hairline. "What is *she* doing here?"

"Maybe Riggs is guilty after all," Brian suggested.

"Or maybe she was worried about him," Jack said.

But Stella was shaking her head. "You don't get it, do you?"

"Get what?" Spencer asked.

"Isobel...Isabella...," Stella expanded.

Boyd shook his head and held his hand up. "We've already had this said that Isabella in Portuguese wouldn't have been Isobel because the translation of Isobel is Elizabeth."

Stella started to blush. "I know, sir, but...well, I think I was wrong. She's about the right age, and if you look at the photos of Isabella as a child, and Lisa, there is a resemblance."

"Are you sure you're not just clutching at straws?" Sandra asked.

Jack, however, looked like he thought there was some merit in Stella's observations. "We could find out quite easily. Just get a fingerprint from her and test it against the one that Eve has."

"Eve has a fingerprint for Isabella Riggs?" Stella asked in surprised.

Grace patted her arm. "I'll tell you later. Now, what are we going to do? We can't all stand around here like idiots."

"I also found a correlation between Sam Taylor's properties and where the six women were found," Stella added. "All were right next to each other."

"We need to search those properties, then," Gerry said, and Boyd and Sandra nodded in agreement.

"Were they searched in the original investigation?" Brian asked.

"I'll check," Stella said.

"Alright, how many properties are there? Six separate ones?" Sandra asked, and Stella nodded. "So, we need six scenes processing. There's no way Eve can do all that on her own."

"We know what to do," Spencer replied, indicating himself and Stella. "The basics, at least. We could take Eve as well and the three of us could pair off with Jack, Brian and Gerry."

Boyd nodded. "Get on with it. Do half the scenes today and the rest tomorrow. Don't forget to bring everything back to the lab before you go home."

"What about her?" Sandra asked, nodding in the direction of Grace's office.

"Grace, you go and talk to her. Sandra and I will observe."

"Your office?"

"Exactly."

"And how are we supposed to observe from here?" Sandra asked as she sat down in front of Boyd's desk. "I mean I can see them quite clearly, but..."

Boyd turned his computer screen so she could see it and wordlessly pressed a couple of keys on the keyboard. Suddenly Grace's office appeared on the screen and they could clearly hear what was being said. "We had a camera installed," he replied.

"Mrs Riggs?" Grace said with a smile as she entered her office. "I'm Grace Foley. Sorry to keep you waiting."

The two women shook hands and sat down. "No problem. Is my husband here?"

"No, he isn't. He was taken back to his hotel a little while ago. But there really is nothing to worry about," Grace told her. "He's just helping us with our inquiries."

"Into what, if I may ask?" Isobel's English was accented, but it sounded like someone who had picked up the accent of their adopted country, not a native trying to speak English.

"He only came over yesterday," Grace replied instead. "You must be very close to follow him so soon."

"He is my husband, my place is by his side," Isobel said. "What is Jack helping you with?"

Sandra suddenly laughed. "Yeah, because that isn't going to get confusing *at all*."

Boyd looked at her, then smiled as he realised what she was talking about. "We could always just call him Halford instead."

"Mr Halford, you mean."

"Isobel, how long have you and Jack been married, if I may ask?" Grace said.

"Eleven years. We wed in 1997."

Grace smiled. "You must have been young."

"Twenty one."

"Dean Hampton last heard from his granddaughter in 1997, when she was twenty one," Sandra said to Boyd.

"Isobel, I will tell you what your husband is helping us with, but it may come as a shock to you." Grace took a deep breath before she took the plunge. "We've found the body of your mother, Lisa Riggs."

The effect was immediate and telling. Isobel's face drained of all colour and she swayed slightly in her seat. Grace was on her feet before she fell, holding her steady in her chair. Behind her, Grace heard the door open and shut, and Boyd appeared at her side with a glass of water.

"Thank you," Isobel said, sipping the drink.

"This is DSI Boyd," Grace told her.

"I realise you've just had a shock, but I need to ask you a few questions," he said, sitting down on the couch. "Afterwards, we'll take you to your husband."

"Go on," Isobel replied.

"Is your real name Isabella Riggs?"

"Yes."

"Can you prove it?" Boyd asked.

Izzy stared at him, then nodded. "I have a tattoo, if that helps."

"Show us."

She stood and pulled her waistband down slightly, revealing a blue butterfly on her right hip. "You can also take my fingerprints, if that will help too."

Grace smiled. "Thank you."

"So, when you married Jack Riggs, you stopped talking to your grandfather," Boyd said.

Izzy nodded. "That's right."

"May I ask why?"

"He never approved of Jack, even when he was married to my mother. And I know Granddad would have gone slightly mad about the thought of his granddaughter marrying his son-in-law. And we didn't have such a good relationship anyway," Izzy replied.

"Why?" Grace asked.

"I want to know where you found my mother, and how," Izzy said.

"She was in an apartment that had been leased to Sam Taylor," Boyd replied carefully and deliberately. "She had been frozen for a number of years and then left in the apartment to unfreeze. We ran a toxicology test on her body and found out that she died of an overdose, more than likely self-inflicted. Your husband's fingerprints were found in the apartment and on the freezer."

Izzy looked shocked and rightly so. "So he's a murder suspect," she stated. "You think Jack murdered my mother. You're insane!"

"I can only go off the facts, and at the moment he is our only suspect," Boyd said.

"And, of course, Uncle Sam's dead."

Grace looked at her. "Of course. You knew Sam Taylor, didn't you?"

Izzy nodded. "But I always thought he was a little strange. Jack was always a little roguish, but nice with it. Sam was just...odd."

"How old were you when you first met him?" Grace asked.

"About seven or eight. I know he was at Jack and my mother's wedding."

Grace nodded. "Did you have a good relationship with your mother?"

"Yes. She was always very honest with me. As soon as I was old enough to understand, she told me about my father, who disappeared as soon as she told him she was pregnant, and she never saw him again. Then she met Jack and fell for him, but before she agreed to marry him, she asked what I thought."

"What did you say?"

Izzy smiled. "I told her if she didn't then I would."

"So you were close to Jack from the start?" Boyd asked, and Grace looked at him sideways.

"I think I loved him from the moment I set eyes on him," she replied.

There was a brief silence in the room, and both Boyd and Grace were suddenly keenly aware that Sandra was watching as well, and they had to admire her restraint. If that had been Boyd observing, he would have burst into the room a long time ago.

"In what way?" Grace asked.

Izzy sighed. "You think Jack killed my mother, but I know he didn't. But of course I would say that; I'm his wife. So the only way to convince you is to be completely honest and while I could beat about the bush for a few days or weeks first, I would prefer not to. I have a life in Portugal which I would like to get back to, with Jack, so if I tell you the truth now, that should happen sooner, shouldn't it?"

"Go on," Boyd encouraged her.

"When I say I loved Jack from the moment I saw him, I meant it. It wasn't some silly little crush or a phase I would grow out of. I knew he was the man I wanted to marry. Of course I never expected it to happen because he married my mother, but that didn't mean I stopped wanting it. Or him," she said candidly.

"Mrs Riggs, you do realise that you have just given yourself motive for killing your own mother," Boyd pointed out.

"Yes, but as you said, you go off what the evidence tells you. Do you have any evidence implicating me, Superintendent Boyd?" Izzy asked.

"Not yet."

She smiled. "In that case, I would like to be taken to my husband now, please. Tomorrow I will answer any questions you might have, but that is enough for today. I need to see Jack."

"I'll have an officer drive you there, but you're not allowed to leave the hotel for any reason," Boyd told her.

"I understand."

Ten minutes later, Sandra joined them in Grace's office. "If there were two of them, it would explain how Lisa's body was removed from the freezer," she said.

"You mean Izzy and Jack?" Boyd asked sceptically.

"The hypothesis has merit," Grace said. "She could have helped him get the body out, then he could have carried it into the living room."

"We have absolutely no evidence whatsoever to suggest that Izzy was present in that apartment at any time," Boyd replied, waving a hand negligently.

"We had no evidence she was still alive until you ordered it to be found!" Sandra snapped.

"She walked through the bloody door, that was our evidence!" Boyd yelled back.

"Look, it's late, we're tired, let's call it a day," Grace said, ever the peace maker.

"I want them both back in first thing in the morning," Sandra stated.

Boyd glared at her. "I give the orders here, Sandra. Try not to forget it."

"Fine. Are you going to order me to go home like you did yesterday?"

"Do I need to?"

"No."

"You should ease up on her, Boyd," Grace chastised him when they were alone.

"Why? She knows what to expect and I don't just mean from me," he replied off-handedly. "It comes with the territory."

Grace closed a drawer loudly. "Did it ever occur to you that she might be right?"

"Haven't we had this conversation before?" he asked.

"Don't change the subject, Boyd!"

"Am I going to see you tonight?"

"No," she snapped.

"When, then?" Boyd asked, his question laced with anger.

"When I can be bothered!" Grace replied, storming out of the office.

NT-WtD-NT-WtD-NT-WtD

Boyd was in the office early the next day, but someone had beaten him to it. "I thought you might like this," he said, setting a cup carefully down next to Eve, who looked like she was half-asleep.

She looked surprised, but managed to smile through a yawn. "You're in early."

"So are you."

"I had a reason."

"So do I."

"Okay, you're in one of those moods. I'll just put this into an intravenous drip and then I'll be ready to deal with you," Eve said sleepily.

Boyd looked like he was about to make a typical retort but thought better of it. "What am I doing wrong?" he asked quietly.

Eve, who was nowhere near as tired as she was pretending to be, looked at him sharply. "Have you ever thought that it isn't actually you who's in the wrong?"

He laughed a little. "Yeah. Yeah, I have. It still doesn't change anything, though."

"Grace feels the need to side with Sandra on this one," she said. "Something to do with a little female solidarity, I think. Never bothered much with it myself, but Grace seems to need it. Plus Sandra brings out her mothering instincts more than you do."

Boyd looked impressed. "Is it a requirement of working for the Home Office that everyone has to know psychology?"

Eve grinned. "No, a requirement of working with you."

"Did you manage to process those scenes yesterday?" he asked after smiling back at her.

"We did, but they can manage the other three today without me. I wanted to make a start on this. Plus I should have the DNA results back from the apartment, and report on the prints on the plastic that Jackie Burns' body was wrapped in." At the sound of a beep, Eve turned. "In fact, that should be those now."

"So?"

"Interesting."

"Eve..."

"The prints on the plastic are Lawrence Taylor's," she replied. "But the DNA I got from the body is Sam Taylor's. I matched it to Lawrence's and it's clear they're from the same family, so..."

"Yeah, I get it." Then Boyd stared at her. "How did you get the results on Taylor back so quickly?"

"I called in a favour," she replied, holding his gaze. "It wasn't that difficult, we already had Sam's DNA processed, so to do Lawrence's..."

"You don't have to explain to me. Good work."

Eve smiled. "Thanks."

"Anything else?"

"No." Another beep. "Yes. The DNA results from the apartment."

"Looks like we're not the only ones up early," Boyd said with a smile.

"Alright, no hits for that, but I asked them to check the DNA against a sample of Lisa's," Eve told him. "That way we could eliminate at least one of the suspects, either Hampton or Riggs, if the DNA matched father and daughter, or not."

"Good idea. So?" Boyd asked.

"No match. The person who left a piece of themselves in the freezer and on the door frame was not related to Lisa Riggs."

"Shit." Boyd started to pace but Eve held her hands up.

"Oh no, not in my lab." She shooed him away with her hands. "Out."

Boyd pretended to ignore her for a moment, but then made a move out of the lab; he was stubborn, but he also liked living and he didn't want to imagine how vicious Eve could get. By the time he reached the squad room, it was full of everyone else.

"We're just getting the kit we need and then we'll be off," Spencer said. "Unless you want us here?"

Boyd shook his head. "You're a person down, though. Sandra, would you mind going with them?"

Sandra's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Why?"

"Because I asked you to."

"Why don't you go? Or even better, Eve."

"I have to interview Lawrence Taylor again," Boyd replied, sipping his coffee. "And Eve is making a start on the forensics collected yesterday. She was also waiting for results."

"Results?" Brian asked.

"Wait, Lawrence Taylor?" Jack asked.

"Boyd, stop trying to be clever," Grace said irritably.

He fixed her with a level, closed-off stare before replying. "The prints off the plastic Jackie Burns was wrapped in were Lawrence Taylor's but the DNA from her body was Sam's. And the DNA from the apartment Lisa Riggs was found in doesn't match anyone on the database."

Gerry just shrugged. "Well, it was worth a shot."

"Anything else?" Sandra asked.

"No," Boyd replied, holding her gaze. "If there is, I'll tell you."

"Come on, let's get going," Jack said.

"Grace, call Lawrence Taylor, please."

Boyd didn't wait for a reply before heading into his office and closing his door. He would catch hell from Sandra later for withholding information but he didn't want her out in the field in a pissed off mood. He watched as they all trooped out of the office with the forensic kits and he saw Grace going into her office to make the telephone call, and he wondered how long it would be before there was one hell of an almighty explosion. It was coming, he knew it was, and he had no doubt he would be at the centre of it as usual, but who would be on the other end...well, that remained to be seen.

A knock on his door forced him back to reality. "Come in, Grace."

"Mr Taylor said he can be here in fifteen minutes," she said.

Boyd raised his eyebrows. "Do you think he was expecting us to call?"

"It does seem that way." She came in and sat down on his couch. Boyd, for once, had the good sense to remain quiet. He knew Grace would say what was on her mind when she was ready. "You shouldn't have done it, Boyd, and you know it," she murmured after a moment.

"What exactly are we talking about?" he replied.

"You know damn well what I mean."

And he did, but he wanted to be sure that his suspicions were right. "Tell me, then there's no misunderstandings."

"You should have have asked Spence to look for Riggs' prints like that!"

For a moment, Boyd was silent, her comment and assumptions hurtful to him, which shocked him. He knew she disagreed with what had happened, but he thought she knew him well enough to understand that he was actually protecting Spencer. Obviously not, and yet again he found himself wondering where they were going and if they really did have a future together. The last few months had been golden for him, even their professional life hadn't interfered too much with their personal affairs, but suddenly, a big case appeared and they were at each other's throats, more so than normal. And he hated it. Yes, fighting and arguing were part of the make-up of their friendship; they were important cornerstones in the foundations of their relationship. Take them away and the whole thing would crumble. But this was something else and no matter how much Boyd tried to understand what was going through Grace's head, he always ended up with the same conclusion; that unless she was specific with her gestures, expressions, and words, he would never understand her.

"I didn't," he said slowly.

"You didn't what?"

"I didn't ask Spence to go looking for fingerprints. He did that on his own, without mine or Sandra's approval. And don't lecture me about DI Jordan's behaviour when Sandra has been acting far worse!"

"I think she's having trouble with her boyfriend," Grace replied, seeking to deflect the conversation away from her growing sense of guilt. Once again she had made a judgement about Boyd, and once again, it was wrong. By now, she thought she would know better, but obviously not.

"I don't care if she's having trouble with the Pope," Boyd snapped. "In this office and when we're out in the field, we act in a professional manner. We do not dog one man simply because of an unjustified hunch. And please don't tell me I've done the same; we're not talking about me."

"No, we rarely do."

"And don't change the subject either, Grace," Boyd replied. "You screwed up, again. If I didn't know any better, I would say it's the beginning of a new bad habit for you."

"Well it's clear that you don't know any better, Boyd!" she snapped back, standing. "I think it's best if we stay out of each other's way until Taylor shows up, don't you?"

"I couldn't agree more," he said coldly.

NT-WtD-NT-WtD-NT-WtD

"Mr Taylor, thank you for coming in on such short notice. I'm DSI Boyd, this is Dr Grace Foley, whom you spoke with on the phone," Boyd said.

"I think I know what this is about, so I will just tell you what happened and then you can arrest me," Lawrence replied.

"Mr Taylor..."

"Please, let me speak." He took a deep breath. "A week ago, I decided it was time to start going through Sam's properties. You know, clean them out, do any work that needed to be done; generally start to tidy up."

"Why now?" Grace asked.

"When Sam died, I was too busy with my own life and my own business." Lawrence's eyes teared up. "My wife died in childbirth and my business almost went bankrupt. I've spent the last six years pulling it, and myself, back from the brink of destruction. Sorting out my brother's mess was the last thing on my list; I *had* to put myself first, otherwise I would not be here now."

Boyd sat back and crossed his legs. "Go on."

"I wanted to start with the apartments because I could either sell or rent them easier than anything else," Lawrence explained. "It was a mess when I walked in, needles and...rubbish everywhere, but to my surprise, the electricity was still on." He smiled grimly. "My first thought was how high the bill was going to be."

Grace smiled as well. "I can imagine."

"Anyway, there wasn't much in the way of furniture, but there was a huge chest freezer, which I thought was odd, and so I opened it up to see what was in there, if anything." He swallowed and shook his head. "I wish to God I hadn't."

"Mr Taylor, do you want to continue with a lawyer?" Boyd asked.

Lawrence shook his head. "I'm guilty, though of exactly what in the eyes of the law, I'm not sure, but I did it. There was...a...body...of a woman...in that damned freezer. And I panicked. I'd ordered a skip because I was planning on doing a lot of building work in the apartment, so I...I put the body in the skip." He hung his head.

"Did you...alter the body in any way?" Boyd asked.

"Yes. I wrapped her in plastic." He looked up, his expression extremely earnest. "She was naked, you see, and it just seemed so disrespectful. I know, I know, dumping her like I did wasn't any less disrespectful, but...I knew Sam had killed her. I knew he was capable, more than capable of such violence, and the fact she was in an apartment he owned... I was so ashamed of him, and I just...panicked."

Boyd leant forward, his expression grave. "Mr Taylor, did you go into any of your brother's other properties? And please don't bullshit me."

Lawrence shook his head emphatically. "No. I mean, I have because they used to belong to my father, but not all of them, and definitely not recently. Actually..." He paused and looked a little sheepish. "...I was the one who called the police about the body. I hadn't slept properly since I...committed the crime."

"We'll need to verify that, compare your voice with the voice on the 911 tape," Grace told him.

"Of course."

"Mr Taylor, I have to ask," Boyd said. "Did you know about your brother's 'activities'?"

"No, I had absolutely no idea. If I had...."

"You would have reported him, like you did when he assaulted your other brother?" Boyd asked.

"Yes, exactly," Lawrence replied, holding his gaze.

Boyd sighed. "Get out of here."

"You're not charging me?"

"Not yet. But don't go far in case I change my mind. Go on, get out."

"What are you doing?"

"Oh, shut up, Grace!" Boyd said irritably, and left the interview room.

NT-WtD-NT-WtD-NT-WtD

Eve looked despondent when Boyd walked into the lab a few hours later, in answer to her phone call. "Are you alright?" he asked.

"Yeah. I guess. Look, Boyd, I'm sorry, but I think I screwed up. Do you remember me saying that the print in the apartment was possibly planted?"

"Yeah."

"Well the prints I lifted from the freezer were the same."

"Jack Riggs?" Boyd asked.

"Yes, but that's not what I meant." Eve shook her head. "The full print I found was *exactly* the same as the one in the apartment. Index finger right hand. And the partial print was the index finger from the left hand. And I didn't notice the similarity...well, the fact they were the same."

Boyd smiled. "It happens. Don't blame yourself."

"And what you did for Spence? Again? I thought that was very noble."  
`

Boyd glared at her. "It's about being fair, nothing else."

"It's about protecting him."

"It's about protecting you all."

Eve put her hand on his arm and squeezed briefly. "I know. So do the others. Thank you." Then she folded her arms and sighed. "Now what?"

"Now we get Mr and Mrs Riggs back in, along with Dean Hampton, and grill them," Boyd replied. "And hope that gives us some answers."

"Can you obtain DNA from them?" Eve asked, already knowing the answer.

"From one because he's our main suspect. I'll ask the other, but I doubt he'll give it up," Boyd said, then sighed. "Sandra is not going to be happy about this."

TBC


	23. Fireworks

NT-WtD-NT-WtD-NT-WtD

Grace was the phone when Boyd walked back into the squad room looking thoroughly hacked off, and he kept his eyes on her until he reached the safety of his own office. She never once looked at him, though he was quite certain she knew he was back from the lab. He had no idea who she was talking to, although he did have one inkling and he hoped he was wrong. The case didn't need any more delays or complications. Although Boyd was beginning to think that there was nothing complicated about it at all, just a simple fact that they were overlooking, or it could have been because they were at each other's throat all the time. It was an easy case; why did it need two teams? Boyd shook his head. He refused to think about it, wanting instead to pretend it wasn't happening.

The minutes ticked by as he tried to come up with hypotheses about what had happened to Lisa Riggs, each wilder than the last, until finally, he gave up, throwing his glasses on his desk in frustration. The sound of many pounding feet made him turn and he saw all of his colleagues returning, though Sandra was conspicuous by her absence. As Boyd turned back to the squad room, he saw Grace's office was also empty. Swearing, he surged to his feet, rounded his desk and stormed out of his office, but stopped when he was confronted by several smiling faces.

"Don't quote us, sir," Spencer said. "But it looks like Sam Taylor is definitely our kidnapper and killer of those six women, and we've got forensics to tie him to each one."

Boyd's attention was instantly focussed on the DI. "Are you sure?"

"Eve said she can have an answer for us within half an hour," Gerry replied, beaming with pride.

"A definite answer?" Boyd asked.

Gerry rolled his eyes. "Not exactly, she'll need another few days for that, but she's already more than ninety percent sure."

"That's good enough for me. I'll let the Commissioner know. Where's Sandra?"

"Bathroom," Brian replied.

Boyd just nodded slowly once. "Alright. While you were out, Lawrence Taylor admitted to moving Jackie Burns' body into that skip, but I haven't charged him yet because I couldn't decide what I wanted to charge him with. He also phoned the police to let us know where the body was."

"Charge him with having a brother like Sam and leave it at that," Jack said wearily.

Boyd looked at him briefly before returning his attention back to the others. "Eve also said that the prints in the apartment and on the freezer, both belonging to Jack Riggs, look like they've been planted."

"As in put there deliberately?" Stella asked, needing confirmation, and he nodded.

Brian frowned. "Why does she think that?"

"Because both prints are exactly the same, right index finger. Every single line is *exactly* the same," Boyd replied, pausing for effect. Before he had left the lab, Eve had told him something else which he knew everyone was going to simply love. "There was also a partial print on the freezer, Eve identified it initially as left index."

"Initially?" Jack asked, raising his eyebrows.

Boyd nodded. "She checked something on a hunch."

"It was right," Spencer said.

"It was right," Boyd repeated.

Gerry spread his hands. "What was it?"

"Eve flipped the print over, so that it looked like it came from the right hand instead, and guess what?"

"The partial print matched the full print line for line?" Stella guessed.

And Boyd nodded again. "So this means that Jack Riggs is no longer our prime suspect."

"Dean Hampton is?" Brian asked.

"Let's not jump to conclusion. We need to get them both back in, and Isabella Riggs," Boyd replied, the teams having been briefed over the interview the day before. "And if we can, we need DNA from them."

"But the DNA Eve tested wasn't related to Lisa," Jack said, frowning.

"Exactly."

"I'm confused," Gerry stated.

Spencer looked at him and grinned. "Isn't that normal?"

"What has Eve been saying?" he asked, mock-grumpily.

"Look, we need to get them in, but let's clear up the Sam Taylor case first, yeah?" Boyd said. "I want you all to handle paperwork and see if Eve needs help while I call the Commissioner. And find Sandra and Grace!"

NT-WtD-NT-WtD-NT-WtD

Boyd was a less than happy man, which was no real surprise. His phone call to the Commissioner had been surprisingly short, with a less than satisfactory results; the general gist was 'my office, now', though Boyd didn't know why. So far, all the Commissioner had done was to listen to the DSI's update and nod in the right places.

"And Lisa Riggs' murder?"

Boyd winced inwardly. He *knew* that question had been coming, but had still hoped for a miracle to happen which would make him avoid the entire incident. "We still have two suspects, sir, but we need DNA from both men to complete the case." It was a long shot, Boyd knew, but he had to try.

"Not a chance. You cannot simply ask them for it, not without any other evidence to back it up," the Commissioner replied. "I will not allow it, Superintendent. Do you hear me?"

"Yes, sir," Boyd replied through gritted teeth.

"Now, don't you have a case to solve?"

The dismissal was clear, although Boyd wanted nothing more than to jump across the desk and bury his fist in the man's face. "Yes, sir."

"And Peter?"

The Commissioner had waited until Boyd's hand was on the door handle before speaking, the policeman knew that, and it made his hackles rise even more. "Yes, sir?"

"Remember what I told you before," the Commissioner said in a cold voice.

Boyd didn't need to ask what he was talking about; he knew. His jaw clenched tightly, he replied, "I remember, sir," and left the office before he started yelling at someone. He stormed back to the unit's offices, everyone in the corridors melting instinctively out of his way, but even by the time he reached the team's headquarters, his temper was still in full control of him and he felt the strong need to shout at somebody.

No one dared ask how the meeting went; from the look on Boyd's face, no one needed to. A quick sweep of the room made his frown deepen, his angry eyes grow darker. "Why are we missing people?"

Brian shrugged. "Sandra took Gerry and Stella...somewhere."

"And Grace?"

"Haven't seen her since we got back, sir," Spencer replied.

"You don't know where the four of them are," Boyd said slowly.

Jack shook his head as Stella said, "They're not with Eve. I've just come back from there."

Boyd stood very still for a moment as he thought, and then his eyes narrowed a fraction and he turned on his heel. "That can't be good," Jack stated.

"On a scale of one to hell, that comes under 'we need to build a bunker right now'," Spencer replied.

Boyd stormed into the observation room, banging the door loudly against the wall as he opened it. He took, and needed, only a single glance at the interview room to confirm his suspicions. "What the hell is going on?" he shouted at Gerry and Stella, who both looked uncomfortable.

Gerry held his hands up. "Don't look at us," he said hastily. "Sandra just asked if we'd watch. We've haven't got a clue what's going on."

"Me either," Stella added unnecessarily, her eyes wide.

"Get out," Boyd said flatly. "MOVE! And send Spencer in. And Jack." He didn't watch them leave, he just stared through the glass, watching for a sign that the women had heard what was happening. If they had, they were pretending they hadn't.

"Boss?" Spencer said as he came into the room, frowning.

Boyd turned and pinned him with a glare. "Did you know that Detective Superintendent Pullman and Dr Foley have pulled Riggs in for questioning?"

Spencer's frown deepened. "What? Now? I thought we were waiting."

Jack took a step to the glass.. "What is she doing?"

"I was hoping you could tell me," Boyd replied, looking now at Jack.

"I have no idea." He shook his head. "I *told* her not to go off like this."

"Neither of you knew?" Boyd asked, seeking clarification before he tore some heads off.

"Not a clue, sir," Spencer replied, and Jack shook his head again.

"What about Brian?"

Jack looked at Boyd. "Brian doesn't know much of anything when it comes to reading our glorious leader's intentions."

Boyd nodded. "That's all I wanted to know." He crossed the room in two long strides, yanking the door open at the end.

Jack and Spencer glanced at each other. "I'll warn the others," Spencer said.

"I'll make sure he doesn't kill anyone," Jack added.

"Really?"

"Well, maybe I'll just watch if he does," Jack replied with a straight face.

Spencer grinned and left the observation room, going first to the lab. "I think you'd better come with me," he told Eve.

"But...," she started to protest, but Spencer cut her off.

"Trust me, you don't want to miss this."

Eve stared at him before nodding. "What's going on?" she asked as she followed him into the squad room.

"Sandra and Grace have pulled Riggs in, alone, without checking with Boyd first," he replied. "They don't know about the planted fingerprints, so I can only guess what their angle is."

"Is anyone still alive in there?" Gerry asked, pointing in the direction of the interview room.

Spencer shrugged. "Jack's with Boyd."

Brian and Gerry looked at each other. "If Jack thinks Sandra's right, he won't do much," Brian said.

"But if he thinks Sandra's in the wrong, and Boyd's out for blood..." Gerry trailed off.

"Does anyone know what's going on?" Stella asked. "I mean exactly."

Brian shook his head. "Not a bloody clue, although at a guess..."

"Sandra's hell-bent on getting a result, *any* result," Gerry said. "Right or not."

Stella frowned. "You think Superintendent Pullman is leading a witch hunt?"

Brian grunted. "It wouldn't be the first time."

"The only way to know for sure is to ask," Eve pointed out.

Everyone stared at her. "Do *you* want to go in there with those four?" Gerry asked, pointing towards the interview room.

Eve grinned and kissed his cheek. "Of course not. I was hoping someone else would volunteer."

"Don't...."

"Look...."

"At me!"

Eve glanced from Brian to Gerry to Stella and smiled again. "I take it that's a 'no'?"

NT-WtD-NT-WtD-NT-WtD

"What the hell do you think you're playing at?" Sandra snapped when Boyd charged into the room. She rose to her feet quickly, while Grace stayed sitting down.

"I could ask you the same thing!" Boyd shouted back. "You can't just drag someone in for questioning because you feel like it!"

"You've done the same before, Boyd," Grace said, now standing up.

Boyd glared at her. "Stay out of this, Grace." He turned slightly. "Jack, can you escort Mr Riggs out of the building please?"

"Now just you wait a minute," Sandra said, her eyes flashing dangerously. "I'm in the middle of questioning a suspect in a murder case and you have no authority to stop me!"

Before Boyd could reply, Jack stepped forward and looked at Riggs. "Mr Riggs, if you could follow me, please."

Sandra glared at him incredulously. "What the hell are you doing, Jack?"

"Agreeing with Boyd," he replied, leading Riggs out of the battle zone.

"You have no right do this!" Sandra yelled before the door had shut, her face red with anger.

"I have every right!" Boyd shouted back. "He is not a suspect!"

"Yes, he is!"

"Not our *only* suspect!" Boyd told her.

"Yes, he *is*!" Sandra yelled.

"Where's your evidence to support that?"

"Since when did evidence matter, Boyd?" Grace asked, a hard edge to her voice. "You've never bothered about it when you followed up on a hunch. Why should this be any different?"

Boyd stared at her. "This isn't about me, Dr Foley. This is about you and Superintendent Pullman trying to balls this investigation up!" His voice rose with each word, until by the end, Boyd had proved he really could yell the loudest.

"Don't give me that 'Dr Foley' crap just because you're pissed at us," Grace said scornfully.

Boyd took a deep breath in a pitiful attempt to calm himself. "Dr Foley, please leave the room." He put extra emphasis on her name, but Grace was too angry to see the danger signs.

"I'm not a child, Boyd!"

"NOW!"

Grace blinked in surprise, having never had that tone of voice directed at her before and understanding now how the others on the team felt when Boyd shouted. Without another word, and before she burst into tears, Grace left the interview room without looking back.

"That man had sexual relations with an under-age girl!" Sandra yelled at Boyd, bringing his attention back to her.

Boyd just stared at her. "Where did you get *that* idea from?"

"Does it matter?" Sandra retorted.

"Does the word 'proof' mean anything to you, Superintendent?" Boyd asked.

"Yes, *Superintendent*, it does! It means that if none is present to start with, you draw your own conclusions and then find evidence to support that theory later," Sandra replied.

"Or disprove the theory," Boyd said. "You can't hound him because...what, you don't like him? He isn't our only suspect!"

"He brainwashed her!" Sandra yelled in frustration.

Boyd stared at her. "Is that the official term? Or was that Grace's contribution to this farce?" he asked, throwing his arms up in the air. "We have no evidence." He spoke each word slowly, as though that would make Sandra understand. "No evidence at all to tell us he is our man!"

It didn't work. "If you're not willing to take this seriously, Boyd, I'll have you removed from this investigation."

Boyd's replying gaze was stony. "You've got the balls to do that, but you'd never be able to hold this investigation together on your own," he replied flatly. "You're leading with your heart, Pullman, not your head. Use your head!" He slapped his hands down on the table forcefully and started shouting again. "If Riggs has got any sense, he'll put a claim in to sue the Met and then when they're looking for some piece of meat to sacrifice to please the public, who do you think it'll be?" Boyd ran a hand through his hair and started pacing. "You might be right, but you might be wrong. Did you ever think about that?"

"Yes," Sandra said, simmering down a little.

"And didn't it occur to you for one *second* that you're not running a one man investigation?" Boyd roared. "We're supposed to be a *team*, all of us! If you and Grace have got a theory, then you share it with the rest of us! You don't go off half-cocked!"

"I don't have to take this from you, Boyd!" Sandra shouted back, pushing past him.

"It's either me or the rest of them."

"And you're so bloody sure that they'll agree with you, are you?"she snapped, turning slightly to glare at him.

Boyd held her gaze. "Because it's the principle of the matter, Superintendent Pullman," he replied calmly. "It's not about who's right and who's wrong, it's about the fact that you didn't tell the rest of us. You made a decision on your own, you and Grace, and it's the rest of us that have to take up damage management now."

Without waiting for a reply, Boyd strode past Sandra, who seemed frozen to the spot, and left the interview room. After a few moments, Sandra leant against the wall and sighed. "Shit," she muttered, then banged her head backwards. "Shit, shit, *shit*."

TBC


	24. Honesty

NT-WtD-NT-WtD-NT-WtD

Boyd held the glass up to the pale light, the amber liquid looking even more burnt in the yellow haze of the office. It was well after hours, everyone else having gone home long ago, but he couldn't face the thought of an empty house or worse, what his answer machine might hold in store for him. The afternoon had been strained to say the least. When he came back into the squad room after his argument with Sandra and Grace, Boyd found six pairs of eyes upon him, each holding a varying degree of emotion, from understanding and support to blame and anger. He knew Spencer especially would be feeling tormented; the DI would agree whole-heartedly with Boyd for his stance against Sandra, and Grace, but at the same time he would hate that Boyd had made Grace cry...again. Spencer's conflicting emotions had shown all too clearly on his face, the sheer amount of feeling far too raw, and Boyd found he couldn't look at him for more than a second. He gave the teams the short version of what had happened, knowing that Sandra and Grace would impart their own versions later on, each being varying degrees of the truth, and if the teams chose to believe them over him, Boyd couldn't have cared less. Not with everything that had happened. Not with the way his life was spiralling downwards yet again.

But it wasn't just his life this time; it was everyone else's, they just didn't know it. Well, his team's at least. He took another sip of his whisky. It burnt down his throat and felt good, and bad. He had shed his jacket and tie a long time ago, but wished to shed his skin at that point in time. Breaking the rules had never bothered him; Boyd would do whatever he had to in order to get a result, and consequences be damned. But now, he realised just what he had risked, what he had put at stake. In one swift motion, it had come back to haunt him, and with his reckless behaviour, he had also put his team in danger. He was an idiot on so many levels, but was only just starting to realise it now, and he wondered if it was possible to put things right at this late date. He seriously doubted it.

Everyone had gone home and Boyd was all alone, as usual. Why, then, was there movement out of the corner of his eye? Turning slightly, thinking perhaps it was the cleaning staff, he found himself confronted with an astonishing sight, although he wasn't all together that surprised. Reaching down into the bottom drawer, Boyd took out a second glass, filled it and pushed it across the desk just as someone sat down opposite him.

"Thanks," Sandra said quietly, lifting the glass.

"I thought you had gone home," Boyd replied, taking a long drink.

"I thought about it," she admitted. "But I knew it wouldn't solve anything. So I stayed in the interview room. I've been there all day."

"You must be hungry."

"A little."

"Most of the takeaways deliver here," Boyd said mildly. "What do you fancy?"

"Indian," Sandra replied without hesitation.

Digging in a drawer, he pulled out a menu and slid it across the desk to her. "Choose and I'll phone it in."

She stared at him until he met her gaze. "Thank you," she said, slowly and sincerely.

He smiled crookedly at her. "Don't thank me yet, Pullman. I haven't finished with you."

Sandra rolled her eyes. "I never doubted that for a moment but I can thank you for this so far, can't I?"

Boyd shrugged and drained his glass. "If you feel it's necessary."

"Don't you?"

"Are you going to pick something or should I just order?"

Sandra rolled her eyes again and picked several items from the menu. "What? I haven't eaten since this morning."

"Should I be worried for the furniture?" Boyd asked as he dialled the number.

"Whoever told you that you were funny was lying," she replied dryly.

"It was Grace." Boyd's tone was laced with anger, pain, and general anguish, and once again Sandra felt guilty over what had happened. And once he had put the phone down, she began to speak.

"I know that my...conduct during this case has been...well, less than acceptable...."

"Grace told me you were having boyfriend trouble and that I should go easy on you."

Sandra snorted. "It has nothing to do with that. Well, maybe a very small bit, but we're talking minuscule."

"I thought as much," Boyd said as he refilled their glasses. "So?"

"You wouldn't understand. You can't understand," she replied, staring through the glass to the corridor behind him.

Stretching his legs out and leaning back in his chair, Boyd sighed. "Let me take a guess. DAC Strickland, who is your boss, called you into his office not long after this case started, probably about the same time we found Riggs and sent you and Spence to Portugal. He wanted to give you a warning, a non-negotiable ultimatum that probably went something along the lines of this: your days are numbered. Satisfactory completion of this case within a set time limit might, and only *might*, extend the life of your unit. He thinks that you are...dangerous, at risk of going rogue, because you are such a close team." Boyd sipped his drink. "In fact, it's possible that the farce that brought us together last time has somehow turned into reality. They do think that we're too good at our jobs, and that working together we would be a real threat to...well, to them." As he turned his head, he found Sandra staring at him. "What?"

"I was just wondering how you knew, and then I realised that the Commissioner would have spoken to you directly," she replied. "And then I was wondering how the hell it ended up being me that went off on one and you being the voice of reason."

"Grace," he said shortly.

"And you didn't tell her, did you?" Sandra asked. "About the team's days being numbered."

He shook his head. "As the head of the unit, that knowledge and responsibility was mine to bear alone."

"And are you now changing your mind?"

"I think I have to. By keeping this knowledge to ourselves, look what's happened."

"Oh yeah, that's Grace talking alright," Sandra said with a smile, which soon faded. "You should call her. Explain things to her."

"Explain that I lied? I don't think so," Boyd replied, shaking his head.

"That you were trying to protect her."

"Which will go down even worse with her."

"And you're still doing it." Sandra shook her head. "You won't tell her because you know she's embarrassed herself enough, like I have, and the worst part is, Grace knows it too." She stared at the man opposite her. "You really care about her, don't you?"

"Don't sound so surprised," he replied somewhat sharply.

"Well I am. I never thought it possible."

"Like you with Chris?"

"That's different."

Boyd held her gaze. "Is it? You're pissed about being handed a serious notification of imminent redundancy, but you're more than a little upset with him. Do you want to share?"

Sandra laughed. "With you?" She sobered at the expression on his face. "Alright, why not? Basically he threw a tantrum when I told him I was going away with a male colleague for a few days."

"With Spence to Portugal."

"Exactly."

"Has he ever acted that way before?" Boyd asked.

Sandra shook her head. "No. He's never been jealous of anything, not even my insane commitment to my job."

"He loves you," Boyd said, the word a little unfamiliar to him, sounding strange to his ears. "Whether you can accept that or not. I think you believe he does, but you can't accept it, for whatever reason. You should talk to him; I know you haven't since that argument with him."

Sandra glared at him. "Pot. Kettle. Black."

"Are you making coffee?" Boyd asked.

Despite herself, Sandra smiled. "I'll tell you what, I'll make you deal. I'll phone Chris now if you'll phone Grace."

"I have a better idea. Why don't *you* phone Grace and *I'll* phone Chris?"

"Are you serious?"

"Perfectly."

"How is that going to solve anything?"

Boyd put his glass down and leant on his desk. "Think about it, Sandra. Grace won't pick up if she knows it's me, and I doubt Chris has forgiven himself enough yet to talk to you."

"What do we tell them?" she asked.

He sighed. "The truth. I've never been a big fan of telling it, especially not the whole truth, but it seems the time for halves has come and gone. It's all or nothing now."

Sandra smiled. "Sounds perfect."

NT-WtD-NT-WtD-NT-WtD

It was odd, but without discussing it, Sandra stayed in Boyd's room while he went into Grace's, both talking to each other's other half. It wasn't normal, but that again, both doubted anything would be 'normal' to them again. It was set in stone; their days were numbered. Sandra may find another job, but it wouldn't be a promotion. It would be a step sideways, and forever be like that. She knew it, and so did Boyd, and he found it galled him. She was too young to shaft in such a fashion. Stubborn, hot-headed, and an undiplomatic as he was, but a damned fine officer. But to the Met, she was just another person; a shining star that was rapidly turning into a liability they couldn't afford to keep. Just like he had been at one time, but at least his career had lasted a little longer, longer than he had ever expected, if he was honest with himself. And, if his honesty continued, he truly liked Sandra. If he could save her career, he would do, even if it meant sacrificing his own. Of course, if such a thing came to pass, he knew he would never hear the end of it.

*"Hello?"*

"My name's Boyd, I know you've heard of me, and before you put the phone down, I think you should hear what I have to say," Boyd said.

There was a long pause. *"I know who you are, Superintendent Boyd. What can I do for you? Is it...? I mean, is everything alright?"* Chris asked, and the older man could hear the worry in his voice, in the unfinished question.

"Sandra is fine," Boyd replied.

Chris sighed in relief. *"Good. So, what can I do for you?"* he repeated.

"You can shut up and listen." And with that, Boyd told him everything, without actually revealing too many details about the case. When he finished, he waited for a moment before continuing. "If you care for Sandra as much as I think you do, you'll do whatever it takes to make her understand that you were an idiot. I don't care if you spray paint the front of the building, sort things out with her. Otherwise you'll have me to answer to. Understood?"

Chris swallowed, having heard all about Boyd's reputation from Sandra, and knowing it wasn't exaggerated in the least. *"I understand. Thank you, Superintendent. And...would you tell Sandra that...I'm sorry? I will do it myself, some special way, but to start with, I need her know."*

"I'll tell her," Boyd promised, and put the phone down, his eyes straying to the items around the room. Pain lanced his chest as he thought of Grace and his harsh words to her earlier. Between him and Sandra, they had created an almighty mess, though it was ultimately the Commissioner who was to blame; even Strickland couldn't really be held accountable as he was still a lackey, though from what Boyd knew of him, if could have easily been his idea in the first place.

A corner of something caught his eye, more so because it was obviously hidden, and standing, he plucked it deftly from its place between two books. A photo. Of them, him and Grace. It was nothing special, taken while they were working. They were both sat like mirror images of one another, with one arm leaning on the desk, the other two shoulders touching, their glasses halfway down their noses, and their heads tilted towards each other. Boyd didn't know which of the team had taken it; he didn't care. All he knew was that it summed him and Grace up perfectly, and with that thought, his eyes drifted towards his office, where he knew a similar conversation to the one he had just had with Chris was going on between Sandra and the profiler.

"Hi, Grace," Sandra said when she picked up.

*"Hi."* Grace's voice was thick and laden with sorrow.

"How are you? No, wait, stupid question."

*"Why are you so chirpy? Did Boyd finally die?"*

"You don't mean that," Sandra said firmly.

Grace laughed, but it was a hollow sound. *"Don't I? How could I have ever believed him? How could I ever have...?"*

"Loved him?" Sandra finished for her. "It's quite easy, really. Grace, I need you to listen to me, and then...well, then you can shout, okay?" She quickly explained the situation and once finished, braced herself for the inevitable yelling. It never came.

*"Not again... Not again,"* Grace murmured.

Sandra's mind whirled as she tried to work out what the profiler was talking about. Glancing over to the other office, she saw Boyd talking to Chris, saw how his eyes kept darting over Grace's possessions, and inspiration hit her. "You always assume the worst in him because most of the time, it's true. When you expect him to be honourable, he's a total bastard, but then sometimes, he surprises you. And you think you should know him better than that by now, especially given your profession. You don't like him surprising you, and you don't like thinking bad of him when he's trying to be good."

*"Do you want my job?"* Grace asked dryly.

"And work with Boyd all day? No thank you," Sandra replied with a smile. "So, are you going to forgive him?"

"Me *forgive* him?" Grace said. *"Haven't you got that the wrong way round?"*

"No. Men should always apologise because they've usually always done something wrong."

Grace laughed, and Sandra sighed quietly with relief. *"Very true. I'll think about it and let you know tomorrow what I've decided."*

"Good. Well, good night, Grace."

*"Good night, Sandra, and thank you. Oh, and Sandra?"*

"Yes?"

*"Tell Boyd that I'm sorry, will you?"*

"Of course. Night."

NT-WtD-NT-WtD-NT-WtD

Boyd and Sandra met in the squad room. "Well?" Boyd asked.

"So?" Sandra said.

They smiled.

"He apologises," Boyd said.

"She says sorry," Sandra said.

They shook their heads. "He loves you," Boyd murmured.

Sandra nodded. "She loves you too."

"So...."

"So. We're all good?"

"We are."

"What's the plan of action for tomorrow?" Sandra asked.

"We tell both teams the truth, and then we solve this bloody case," Boyd replied.

"I like it. Simple. Easy to remember."

TBC


	25. Revelations

NT-WtD-NT-WtD-NT-WtD

"Morning, Brian," Sandra greeted the ex-DI, accompanied by a sunny expression and a warm smile.

Brian stopped and stared at her suspiciously. "Have you been drinking?"

"No, why?"

"No reason," he muttered, moving quickly to his desk but still keeping his eyes on Sandra, Boyd and Grace, all of whom were acting very nicely towards each other and seemed very cosy together. As they moved into Grace's office, Brian pulled out his mobile and quickly dialled a number. "Jack? It's Brian. Where are you?... Right, well hurry up... No, nothing's happened. Well, I'm not sure about that... I always make perfect sense. Look, something's up, I know that... Paranoid?" His exclamation was a little too loud and he quickly hunched over more, trying to look inconspicuous and subsequently looking more conspicuous than a twenty tonne lorry painted in pink and yellow polka dots. "Look, just hurry up, and make sure Gerry's with you as well. I don't want to spend any longer on my own here than I have to... Well when you get here, then you can tell me if I'm paranoid or not!"

"Problem?"

Sandra's voice made him jump. "No," Brian replied, surprisingly calmly.

"Good. Jack on his way?"

"I suppose so," he said, breaking eye contact and hunching over his keyboard, staring at the computer screen.

Ten minutes later, Jack turned up. "Alright, Brian, what's the problem?" he asked wearily.

Brian looked up, flicked his gaze to Grace's office, and then stared back at his computer. "Whenever you want to apologise, I'll be right here."

Jack rolled his eyes and looked over to the room where Boyd, Grace and Sandra were sat. Together. Talking. Nicely, at that. Boyd and Grace were even...were they holding hands? And then Boyd said something. And Sandra laughed. And Grace rolled her eyes and smiled.

"Did I miss something?" Jack muttered to Brian.

"I think we all did," he replied.

"You're still paranoid," Jack said. "But this time you were right. How's Esther?"

"Fine. Well, she's...happy."

"Probably because you're working so much."

Fifteen minutes later, the rest of their colleagues had filtered into the office and were all sat around warily eyeing the superior officers. And Grace. "Alright, what's going on?" Eve asked, blunt as ever.

Boyd and Sandra looked at each other for a moment before Sandra nodded. "To cut a long story short, the unit's days are numbered. Both units. Sandra and I have received identical ultimatums from the Commissioner and DAC Strickland; solve this case and we get an extension of life, maybe, but we will not be doing this indefinitely. Not any more."

"They think we're dangerous, both teams," Sandra continued. "And we think that we've – me and Boyd, that is - just made matters worse for us all."

"By fighting?" Stella asked quietly.

Sandra shook her head. "No, when we were fighting, it was good. We weren't a threat then, but now we've talked and made up..."

"Now they're after our balls again," Gerry said dryly.

Boyd nodded once. "Exactly."

There was a profound silence as they all let the information sink in. "Well, why are we sat on our arses doing nothing?" Gerry asked, jumping to his feet. "There's got to be a way to fix this. Let's see what dirt we can dig up on the Commissioner, and see if we can find something else on Strickland."

"I'm on it," Spencer said, standing as well, along with Brian.

But Jack stayed sat down, his eyes locked on Sandra's. "You're not going to let us, are you?" he asked.

"Brian, Gerry, sit down," she said, staring at Jack.

"What?" Gerry exclaimed loudly.

"Boss," Spencer protested to Boyd, who just shook his head.

"Not this time, Spence," he said tiredly. "We can't fight forever. If we win this, it will only be a matter of months before they're after us again. The Met have backed themselves into a corner by having two units solving cold cases, but it's a problem that can only be fixed by getting rid of one of us."

"Or both of us," Eve pointed out.

"So, what? We're just going to roll over and die?" Stella asked, blunt enough to make Eve proud. Both Boyd and Sandra glared at her for that comment, but she held her head high and didn't back down.

"No, we're not going to just roll over and die," Grace replied calmly. "We're going to do our jobs and that's the end of it. We won't get any support from any of the other departments or officers; you all know they would love to see us crash and burn."

"And the Home Office won't help either," Eve added. "The only thing they will do is remove Grace and me before the shit hits the fan, to protect themselves. And then that's only if they get wind of this."

Brian spread his hands. "So, what do we do now?"

"We get Jack and Izzy Riggs back in, for a proper interview," Boyd said. "Put them in separate rooms and question them about every single detail of their lives until one of them cracks."

Sandra nodded. "And crack they will, we know this. They know something or they're hiding something, we all know it. We need to find out what it is."

"Spence, you and Brian handle one of the interviews," Boyd told him. "Jack and Stella can do the other. Sandra, Grace and I will observe." He turned his head. "Eve, do you need help in the lab?"

She smiled. "Why? Are you going to give me Gerry?"

"Only if you can behave yourselves."

"We always do," Gerry replied indignantly.

Eve's smile grew into a fully fledged grin. "I could use his help, yes. Actually, we still need DNA from Dean Hampton."

"Why don't the two of you go and get that, and then process it?" Sandra suggested with a shrug, looking at Boyd for confirmation.

He nodded. "Fine by me."

"Bulldog?" Gerry asked Eve as they left the squad room.

"Sit!" Jack called after him.

"Stay!" Brian added, and both men burst into laughter as they saw Eve pat Gerry on the head.

NT-WtD-NT-WtD-NT-WtD

A short while later, the six officers and Grace found themselves in the observation room looking at the Riggs', both of whom seemed calm and collected. "So, tactics?" Spencer asked.

Boyd shook his head. "There aren't any. Just get them to tell us something we don't already know."

"This should be fun," Brian muttered as he and Spencer went in one direction and Jack and Stella went in the other.

"Do you think we'll get anything out of them?" Sandra asked.

Boyd settled himself into a chair. "We're about to find out."

"Mrs Riggs, thank you for coming in," Jack greeted the woman in the interview room.

"I wasn't aware we had a choice in the matter," she replied mildly. "But before you go any further, there is something I have to tell you which I think may negate the need for many questions."

Jack masked his surprise well, but out in the observation room, Sandra could see he was startled. "Go on."

"Jack and I have discussed this greatly and while he disagrees, I believe honesty is the only option." Izzy took a deep breath. "I am certain I know the reason for my mother's rash behaviour before her disappearance, but Jack doesn't agree with me."

"Can you tell us?" Stella asked.

Izzy nodded. "I think she found out that Jack and I were in a relationship."

"But you were only fourteen years old," Stella blurted out.

"Yes, I know," the other woman replied calmly.

"Ha! I knew it!" Sandra exclaimed triumphantly, turning to look at Boyd. "I told you so."

He just glared at her and then rolled his eyes, but didn't say anything. He didn't need to.

Sandra just shrugged and smiled before replying, "Well, I did."

"I'll tell the boys," Grace said before Boyd could start a well-deserved argument with his counterpart.

In the other interview room, Brian and Spencer tuned out what Riggs was saying to listen to Grace passing on the information.

"...Can tell you," Riggs finished as they tuned back in.

"Tell us about your relationship with your wife," Spencer interrupted.

Riggs looked startled, then his shoulders slumped in defeat. Passing a hand wearily over his face, he shook his head. "She told you, didn't she? Well, your colleagues. I told her not to, but she obviously didn't listen. She never does."

"They never do," Brian told him quietly, his tone confidential. Spencer glared at him sideways, while trying to hide his own smile, and the retired officer coughed. "Well, now we know, why don't you tell us about it?"

"What exactly do you want to know?" Riggs countered.

"Everything," Spencer replied.

Riggs sighed. "You already know that my wife has been in love with me since she first saw me and that she knew one day she would marry me. Even I find that hard to believe, but she insists it's true. We were always close, but I only viewed her as a daughter, I swear. Then, after Irene died, and Lisa was spending so much time with her father, Izzy began to make moves on me. I was shocked, of course, and rejected, quite harshly, if I remember rightly."

"So what changed?" Brian asked.

"One night, after a particularly bad argument with Lisa, Izzy came to me. She hated us arguing, hated to see me upset, and she just held me for a while. When I started to move and pull away, she kissed me. I was shocked and told her to never to it again, that I was like her father and it was wrong. We pretended like nothing had happened and we didn't speak of it again, but I couldn't forget it."

Spencer leant forwards, his expression hard. "Mr Riggs, did you sleep with your step-daughter at this time?"

"No!" he exclaimed. "Never. Not until we were married, actually, even though she wanted to, I refused." Seeing their expressions, Riggs shook his head. "Be sceptical if you wish, gentlemen, but it's the truth, I swear."

Boyd looked at Grace. "Is it?"

She nodded. "I think it it."

"Me too," Sandra added. "Though I wish it wasn't."

Boyd looked at her. "Why?"

"Because I'm seriously starting to doubt whether he's our man or not," she admitted.

"Hush," Grace said absently, pressing the microphone button. "Spencer, Brian, we think he's telling the truth, so don't press him too much about it. We don't want to scare him off while he's opening up so much."

"What can you tell us about Izzy's relationship with her grandfather?" Jack asked.

Riggs shrugged. "They had some sort of falling out but I don't know what it was about."

"He's lying," Sandra and Boyd said together.

"Probably, but we've been given one good piece of the puzzle," Grace replied. "Let's not hope for too much."

"You think we're not going to get any more out of them?" Boyd asked, turning to look at the profiler.

"I think we should get Izzy to confirm or deny what Riggs has just said, and then leave them. We need to take a step back and look at this problem from all angles."

Boyd and Sandra looked at each other and Sandra just shrugged, then nodded. "Alright, let's do that," Boyd said, passing the information and instructions on to Brian and Spencer.

NT-WtD-NT-WtD-NT-WtD

Gerry was just starting the coffee machine up and putting the kettle on when the six of them trooped into the squad room. "Didn't it go well?" he asked, leaning against the table and folding his arms.

"What do you mean?" Brian replied.

"You look like a bunch of slapped arses."

"Charming," Sandra murmured.

"So, didn't it go well?" Gerry repeated.

"No, it went great," Stella replied. "We found out something we didn't know before."

He nodded. "But..."

"We don't think Jack Riggs is our man," Jack replied wearily. "And we don't know who that leaves."

"Well, that's not true," Spencer said. "We *know* who it leaves, we just can't get it to make sense."

"I think I can," Grace announced, sitting down.

Everyone immediately took their places around the desks and waited expectantly, but after a few moments, the profiler was still silent. "Well?" Brian said.

"I'm waiting for a cup of tea," Grace replied calmly.

"Gerry, get a move on," Sandra ordered.

"So, we only have four people closely connected with Lisa Riggs and whose names have been thrown up with regards to this investigation," the profiler began to explain. "Sam Taylor, Dean Hampton, Jack Riggs and Isabella Riggs."

"But Sam Taylor is dead," Stella interrupted.

Grace looked at her. "Hush." Both Boyd and Sandra smirked at that. "So, Sam Taylor is dead, and we don't think that any of the others did it. And there simply aren't any other suspects. There is nothing to connect Izzy to the crime, so I think we can safely rule her out. That leaves the two men, and it *has* to be one of them, we just don't know why. But I think Izzy has just answered that question for us, and it's all to do with relationships. We don't think it's Jack Riggs, but we do have evidence connecting him to the crime and we've just been given a motive." She sipped her drinks. "I think that one of the two men is definitely responsible for Lisa's death, but I don't think he killed her. He loved her; he couldn't have hurt her. We know love was involved because of the careful concealment of the body, and the reason for the concealment was because no one else could have her." Grace looked around the table. "Because we're not dealing with simple love; we're dealing with an obsession, and with control."

Spencer stretched. "I'm just as confused as I was before. That could be either Riggs or Hampton."

"We could take a vote," Gerry suggested. "All those in favour of Riggs."

Jack rolled his eyes. "Or you could just tell us which one you think it is, Grace."

"Dean Hampton," Boyd replied before she had the chance.

All eyes turned to him. "What?" Sandra exclaimed. "You *knew*?"

"Don't look at me, I didn't tell him," Grace replied, holding her hands up. "In case you haven't noticed, we haven't exactly been talking a lot lately."

"You didn't have to," Boyd said. "I worked it out."

"How?" Brian asked.

"I never thought Jack Riggs was our man. The fact he ran away made him to obvious a suspect. But Hampton's mannerisms, his behaviour, everything that came out of his mouth seemed like a well constructed fabrication. He's clever; he can keep track of every single lie he's ever told, and that makes him dangerous."

"Would you like my job?" Grace asked somewhat acidly.

Taking her by surprise, Boyd reached across the table for her hand, squeezing it once before leaning back. "Not a chance. I had Eve see if she could find anything on Irene Hampton; medical records, etc."

"And?" Spencer asked.

"There was some doubt as to the cause of her death, but nothing could be proved. But it seems there had been a few reports of shouting by the neighbours, some concerns of domestic abuse..."

"But nothing ever came of it," Grace finished. "As Boyd said, he's a very smart man. And while I don't think he actually killed Lisa, he was responsible for her death."

"But why?" Sandra asked, shaking her head. "I mean, she was his daughter, they were apparently very close. Why would he do that?"

Boyd's expression was grave. "Because he loved her and he couldn't have her."

"Do we think he abused her?" Jack asked quietly.

Grace shook her head. "No. I think Hampton wanted her but wanted her to submit to him. To take her by force would rob him of the thrill he would get from breaking her."

"This is all great in theory, but where's our evidence?" Spencer asked.

"He framed his step-son because Riggs could have the relationship with Lisa that he, Hampton, couldn't," Brian suggested.

Stella leant forward. "And Izzy?"

"She could have reminded Hampton of her mother," Gerry said thoughtfully. "Maybe he tried to force himself on her, or make her...submit... That would explain why their relationship was strained."

"And he knew Sam Taylor," Sandra added. "It's possible he could have known of his...shall we say extra-curricular activities." A moments of silence followed as they all processed the ideas. "What do we think?"

"We need proof," Jack replied.

At that moment, Eve burst into the squad room looking excited. Well, excited for Eve. "You are going to *love* this."

"You've found the proof we need to prove that Dean Hampton is the guy we're looking for," Gerry said.

Eve glared at him. "How the hell did you know that?"

He smirked. "I'm just that good."

Brian snorted. "Yeah, right!"

"In your dreams," Spencer added.

"What have you got, Eve?" Boyd and Sandra asked at the same time.

The pathologist rolled her eyes. "We're spending far too much time with each other."

"You can say that again," Jack muttered.

"Eve," Grace prodded.

"Right. Something good. Dean Hampton's DNA. I've profiled it and checked it against all the DNA we've got for the case already. So, that's Lisa Riggs and the unknown sample from the apartment, and Jack Riggs, of course."

"Please don't say that Dean and Jack are related," Stella said.

Eve rolled her eyes but was smiling. "No, but you're actually quite close."

"Go on," Boyd said.

"The unknown DNA sample from the doorway?" Eve said, and everyone nodded in remembrance and understanding. "It belongs to Dean Hampton."

"But you said it wasn't related to Lisa Riggs," Sandra commented.

Eve smirked. "Exactly."

TBC


	26. Answers

NT-WtD-NT-WtD-NT-WtD

Everyone stared at the pathologist. "Are you telling us that Dean Hampton is *not* Lisa Riggs' father?" Boyd asked incredulously.

"That is exactly what I'm saying," she replied calmly. "His DNA matches the sample from the doorway one hundred percent, and doesn't match Lisa or Isabella's at all."

"There's more, isn't there?" Grace asked, noting the look on Eve's face.

She smiled and nodded. "The freezer contained a blood drop on the bottom of the inside, close to an edge. The same edge that Boyd tried to lift me out of, actually."

"And?" Sandra asked, somewhat impatiently.

"It's Dean Hampton's. I also found a corresponding mark on Lisa Hampton's body. It wasn't easy, but there is a faint trace which I found using...."

"We don't need to know every single detail, darling," Gerry said, quickly holding his hands up. "We know you're brilliant, you don't have to prove it to us."

Brian grunted. "Creep."

"Will it hold up in court, though, if we don't get a confession out of him?" Jack asked.

Stella held a hand up. "Wait a minute. Are we now saying we definitely think Dean Hampton was responsible for his daughter's death?"

Spencer looked around the table. "All those in favour, raise your hands." Everyone did. "I think that's a yes."

"We're going to need more than educated guesses and hunches," Sandra pointed out.

Boyd leant back in his seat. "Put the Riggs' in the same interview room and confront them with this knowledge. My guess is that Isabella doesn't know about Dean not being related, or that he probably caused her mother's death, and will need the support of her husband. But I think she will tell us about her grandfather's...indecent behaviour towards her, which Mr Riggs will almost certainly know about."

"And you want us to pull Hampton in for questioning at the same time?" Gerry asked.

Boyd nodded. "But we'll phone him, get him to come in on his own. If you pick him up, he won't talk." He turned his head.

Grace rolled her eyes, but there was a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "I'll go and do that now, shall I?"

Boyd just grinned at her. "What about the rest of us?" Sandra asked.

"Paperwork," he replied in a distasteful voice. "I want all the 'i's dotted and the 't's crossed. I don't want *anything* for the Commissioner to complain about. Stella, help Eve in the lab. Sandra, you and I will break the news to Mr and Mrs Riggs. Spence and Jack, you observe. When Mr Hampton decides to put in an appearance, take him into Grace's office. Let her handle the interview alone. If we haven't finished in there, Gerry, you and Brian observe from my office, but don't be too obvious about it."

"We're going to trick him into confessing?" Stella asked in a dubious tone.

Boyd shook his head. "I said before I don't want anything for the Commissioner to complain about and I meant it. Grace will tell him he's being recorded."

"Yeah, but she'll probably say it's for training purposes or something," Gerry replied with a wry grin.

"As long as he knows, I don't care," Boyd said.

"I'll go and tell Grace the game plan," Eve announced and disappeared into the profiler's office before anyone could say anything.

Sandra looked around at everyone. "I suppose we'd better get to it."

NT-WtD-NT-WtD-NT-WtD

Grace looked up as the door to her office opened and closed. "Hi Eve," she said with a smile.

"Everything okay?" the pathologist asked as she sat down on the couch.

Grace regarded her with an amused look. "Why wouldn't it be?"

"Oh, you and Boyd, yelling, shouting, not talking. And now...." Eve spread her hands and shrugged.

"Oh. That."

*Grace put the phone down and closed her eyes. Sandra's parting comments had made her smile, but the sense of guilt still lay heavily on her heart. Boyd didn't exactly encourage her to think the best of him, with his short temper and boorish behaviour ninety odd percent of the time, but still... How could she have let herself be drawn so easily into Sandra's single-minded campaign against Jack Riggs? She could understand the Superintendent's mindset, at least now, after the explanation of the Commissioner and DAC's strong threat, but her own behaviour? Grace knew if she even started to analyse it just a little, she would find the reasons, but she didn't really want to. The answers would dismay and disgust her, and besides, where was the point in regretting past actions? Because they were exactly that; past.

Of course, being a psychologist and simply being Grace, she knew it wasn't that easy. But she also knew it wasn't a totally irreversible situation...at least she hoped not. Sighing and looking at the clock, Grace decided there was only one thing for it. Besides, she wasn't going to get much sleep now as it was.

Boyd was weary as he pulled into his street, bone weary and deadly tired of every single thing, and it wasn't a feeling he liked very much. And as he pulled up outside of his house and saw who was sat on his step, his mood didn't, surprisingly, improve.

"It's late," he stated.

"And it's cold," Grace replied with a shrug.

"You should have waited in the car, then."

"I didn't want you to walk straight past me and ignore me."

Boyd stopped a few feet in front of her, surprised. "Is that what you think of me?"

Grace sighed and shook her head, then held out a hand. "Help me up, will you?"

Boyd stepped forwards and gently pulled her to her feet. She went to extract her hand from his, but he held on tight. "I don't think so. You came all this way for a reason, so let's get it out of the way then we can concentrate on making up."

Despite herself, Grace laughed. "Boyd, I'm sorry. So very sorry. I just...I wanted to be right, I..."

"Female solidarity," Boyd replied.

"You've been talking to Eve," Grace said after a surprised silence.

He shrugged and half grinned. "More like she was talking to me. Look, we both acted like children, so let's just forget about it, okay?"

"Are you feeling alright, Boyd?" she asked, lifting her free hand to check his forehead.

"Never better. But this 'warning' from the Commissioner is serious and...yeah, it's making me think about a lot of things."

Grace blinked several times in surprise, not needing words to understand what was going through his mind. "Retirement, Boyd? Seriously?"

"I don't know, Grace. All I know for sure is that I'll be leaving the job sooner rather than later, and I doubt I'll be offered any teaching or consultancy jobs, or anything even remotely related to the Met."

She caressed his cheek. "What on Earth would you do, then?"

He smirked in reply. "Perhaps you can help me think of something."

Without waiting for a response, or even giving her chance to formulate one, Boyd bent his neck and captured Grace's lips. The kiss was tender yet bruising, gentle yet urgent, and she soon found her hands sliding around the back of his neck, one tangling into his hair, as his hands settled possessively onto her waist.

"I think we should go inside," Grace said breathlessly after a few heated moments. "Before we get reported for indecent exposure."

Boyd grinned wolfishly. "The making up part?"

She nodded. "And we have a lot of making up to do."

Boyd fumbled with the keys because he was in such a hurry to open the front door, and the fact that Grace's hands kept wandering over his clothed body, particularly over his arse and...

"Grace, if you don't behave yourself, I'll take you here and now," he ground out in exasperation.

She knew better than to say 'you wouldn't dare' because she knew damn well that he would. Instead, she waited until he was in the house before replying, "Oh, by the way, Boyd..."

"What?"

"I forgive you."

For a moment only, he glared, then with a growl, he dragged her inside and kicked the door shut with one foot. They never made it upstairs...at least not for a while.*

"Grace?"

The profiler blushed magnificently as she came back to reality to find Eve looking at her. "Hmm?"

The pathologist held her hands up. "I don't want to know. I didn't want to know any specifics to start with, I was just wondering how you and Boyd managed to be on such good terms again so quickly after yesterday."

"We talked," Grace admitted. "I apologised, he forgave me..."

"Ah!" Eve jumped to her feet. "Enough information. My brain is already filling in the blanks, though I wish it bloody well wouldn't." She pointed outside. "I'm going to work. You should do the same." She paused with her hand on the door handle. "I'm happy for you, Grace. And I'm glad you've finally come to your senses." And with that, she was gone.

NT-WtD-NT-WtD-NT-WtD

"Mr Riggs, sorry to have kept you waiting," Sandra said as she entered the interview room.

"This is like musical coppers," he noted dryly.

Sandra smiled. "I imagine it must seem that way. Will you come with me please?" She waited until he was on his feet and then faced him fully. "I want to apologise if you feel that you have been...manhandled by us in away way; by me in particular."

"I understand," Riggs replied graciously. "Sometimes you're governed by higher powers; everyone has a boss, whether you like it or not."

Sandra nodded. "Thank you."

"Where are we going?" he asked as they left the room.

"To see your wife," she replied. "We have more questions, and we'd like truthful answers. We also need to tell Izzy something and we think she would benefit from your presence."

"I swear I never slept with her until we were married," Riggs said earnestly.

Sandra looked at him. "I believe you, Mr Rigs, but please don't say anything else until we're in the interview room."

She allowed him to enter first, and he went straight to his wife, as she knew he would. Sandra situated herself next to Boyd, who was leaning against the two-way glass. He looked at her with a slightly raised eyebrow and she rolled her eyes in reply. No words were needed, though after a few moments, Boyd spoke.

"If you'd both like to sit down."

The Riggs' did so, holding hands. "I don't know what else we can tell you," Izzy said.

"Tell us about your relationship with your grandfather," Sandra replied. "The truth."

The married couple bristled and stiffened. "Why do you want to know?" Riggs asked.

Sandra and Boyd glanced at each other, then they both heard Jack's voice in their earpieces. *"Just tell them and have done with it."* Both tried to conceal their smirks.

"Because, Mrs Riggs, we believe that your grandfather was directly responsible for your mother's death, although we don't think he actually killed her," Sandra replied.

"And he isn't your grandfather," Boyd added bluntly. "He wasn't your mother's father. There isn't the slightest connection between them. We think that he wanted your mother sexually, but couldn't have her. And that after she died, he turned his attentions to you."

"Pelo amor de Deus...," Riggs muttered as he shook his head, his face darkening. Suddenly he glared at the two officers. "Foda-se!"

Izzy put her hand on her husband's arm. "It's alright, Jack. We knew this would come out sooner or later, and perhaps it's for the best." She turned to the officers, her expression calm, but her eyes were wild and her complexion pale under the tan. "You are correct, my grandfather did try to abuse me, but it was... It was different, I suppose you could say." She shook her head. "I didn't know he had tried to abuse my mother, though, and I had no idea he wasn't my real grandfather! I guess that makes things easier to deal with in a way." She suddenly covered her face with her hands and made a strangled noise.

Sandra made to move or say something, but Boyd laid a hand on her arm. Out in the observation room, Spencer's smirk threatened to eclipse the sun. "Something?" Jack asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Oh, nothing," Spencer replied airily.

"So it's definitely something."

He nodded towards the interview room. "That's exactly what Grace does with Boyd."

Jack looked at Boyd's hand on Sandra's arm and couldn't help smirking himself. "Do you want to tell him? Or Grace? Or Sandra, for that matter?"

"No, I want to live," Spencer replied with a smile. "Do *you* want to do it?"

Jack held his hands up. "No, no. It was your observation, that makes it your call. You can have all the glory."

Spencer snorted. "Glory. Yeah. Right."

Inside the interview room, the Riggs' had composed themselves. "We're sorry, Mrs Riggs, for giving you a shock, but in our profession we find it much easier to have all the cards on the table at the start," Boyd said, and Spencer and Jack could almost hear Sandra yelling, 'Liar!' in his ear. "So, would you like to tell us again, from the start, about your relationship with your mother and grandfather, and your husband."

"No," Izzy replied boldly. "But I will tell you what you want to know. I refuse to repeat myself again." She took a deep breath. "I was the one who pursued Jack, I was the one who wanted a physical relationship while my mother was still alive, despite only being fourteen, and he refused me. In fact, when he ran away after her death, I had never been more furious with anyone, especially because I should have lived with him at that time. And I thought if that happened... Anyway, at the time I was very upset, not only about that, but the disappearance of my mother as well." Izzy looked at Boyd, then Sandra. "We were very close and her attitude after my grandmother died...was she my real grandmother?"

"I'm sorry, without a DNA comparison, we'll never know," Sandra said.

Izzy nodded. "I suppose in a way, it's doesn't matter. I still don't understand why my mother's attitude and behaviour changed so much, although Jack seems to think she knew about us...but there wasn't really anything to know. We kissed and cuddled, and that was it. Then he left."

Beside her, Riggs rolled his eyes. It was obvious still a bone of contention between them. "Mrs Riggs, you said that your grandfather did try to abuse you, but that it was different," Boyd said. "Can you tell us how it was different? And different to what, exactly?"

"Different to everything you hear about connected with abuse," she replied. "He never forced himself on me, he never...he never raped me." Riggs took hold of his wife's hand in a firm grip. "But it was the way he acted towards me. It wasn't the way a grandfather should act; it wasn't the way he had acted before. When he hugged me, he would hold me tighter than necessary, as though he...enjoyed the feeling of my body against his, and a few times, his hands ended up on my arse. When I asked him what he was doing, he said it was nothing, just the same as he had always done. He would always tap my arse when I was younger, if I was passing him or anything like that. It was...well, I suppose it was a sign of affection. But this was anything but that."

"Anything else?" Sandra asked.

"He would kiss me on the cheek, but it would be very close to the corner of my mouth." Izzy smiled, but it was a grim sight. "While Jack was still around, those precious few weeks between my mother's disappearance and him leaving, my grandfather never tried anything overt. But as soon as Jack left... He became more forceful, talked to me in a flirting way, which was disgusting. And then...yes, he did try to kiss me properly. He started to grope me, but it was... Merda, it was tender! And the look on his face...he really couldn't understand why I was rejecting him. That was just a few days after I had turned eighteen, and I knew if I stayed with him any longer..."

Sandra nodded. "We understand."

"You said that you think Dean is directly responsible for Lisa's death," Riggs said quietly. "What did you mean?"

*"In for a penny...,"* Jack said.

*"...In for a pound,"* Spencer finished.

"We believe that something happened between Mr Hampton and Lisa that resulted in her having some sort of breakdown. We believe she took an overdose of sleeping tablets which resulted in her death. And that Mr Hampton concealed her," Boyd replied, knowing he couldn't tell them the whole truth. Between them, the two teams had pieced together everything, but with no evidence to corroborate their theories, they were stuck. What they really needed was a confession, and he just hoped Grace was up to that task.

"Why?" Riggs asked, shaking his head. "Why would he do that?"

Gerry poked his head into the observation room. "Hampton's here."

Jack passed the news on, and Boyd and Sandra glanced at each other before Sandra looked at Riggs. "I think we're about to find out."

TBC

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations of the Portuguese -  
> Pelo amor de Deus – For the love of God  
> Foda-se – Fuck!  
> Merda – Shit!


	27. Confessions

NT-WtD-NT-WtD-NT-WtD

As Boyd pushed his chair back, he looked from Riggs to his wife. "If you would excuse us for a few moments."

"He's here, isn't he." It was a statement, not a question, and didn't require any answer of any kind, but from the look on Izzy's face, something needed to be said.

Sandra nodded. "Yes, Mrs Riggs, your grandfather is here, but we cannot allow you to see him. Maybe later, if you want to. And yes, we have told him that we've found you. We had to."

"Está tubo bem, minha pequena borboleta," Riggs said to Izzy, squeezing her hand and rubbing her back.

Boyd's head whipped round. "Borboleta?"

"Yes. It means 'butterfly'," Riggs replied, frowning.

Boyd didn't say anything else, just walked out and into the interview room. "What was that all about?" Sandra asked, right behind him.

"Casa da borboleta azul," Boyd said in reply.

Jack stared at him. "Pardon?"

"The name of Riggs' house," he replied. "It's 'casa da borboleta azul'. It means house of..."

"...The blue butterfly," Sandra finished, comprehension dawning.

"Isabella's tattoo!" Spencer exclaimed quietly after a moment.

Jack shook his head. "Amazing how everything falls into place, isn't it?" he remarked mildly.

Sandra looked at Boyd. "What do you want to do? Grace is in there interviewing Hampton on her own. Are you happy with that?"

"Grace is more than capable of taking care of herself, and Gerry and Brian are observing," Boyd replied. "And the more people lingering in the office, the more suspicious he'll get. We want him to relax, don't we?"

"What do you want us to do, then, boss?" Spencer asked.

Boyd ran a hand through his hair, his eyes distant as he was lost in thought. "You could track down the families of the dead women, Spence," he replied quietly after a moment. "Contact them, go and see them. You, Jack and Stella could split up to give them all the news."

"I'll take Jackie Burns' family," Sandra said, and everyone knew why. With the other five, it was a simple case of explaining that they could prove who had killed the women, but that he was already dead. But Jackie's family had been missing her for a long time and to be told now that she had been discovered, and suffered the same fate at the others, was a situation that had to be handled delicately.

Boyd just nodded in understanding. "I'll stay here with the Riggs'."

Jack looked mildly surprised. "Do you think you'll be able to manage that, Boyd?" he asked, straight-faced, but a slightly mischievous twinkle in his eyes. "Staying in here babysitting while Gerry and Brian are observing?"

"I'm sure I can manage," he replied, then added, "For a minute, at least."

Spencer grinned. "I'll get Stella and then we can sort out who's going where."

NT-WtD-NT-WtD-NT-WtD

"Mr Hampton, thank you for coming in," Grace said, shaking his hand and then gesturing to the couch. "Please, take a seat."

In Boyd's office, Gerry was shaking his head. "Something's not right here."

"What do you mean?" Brian asked.

"His behaviour, his body language...it's all wrong."

Brian put his glasses on and stared at the small screen which showed everything that was happening, his brow slowly creasing into a frown. "You know, Gerry, I think you might be right."

"How can I help you?" Dean asked in a calm voice.

Grace picked up on his tone straight away, but didn't show it; only the slightest of hesitations gave her away, and she hoped he hadn't noticed. "We're very close to solving the case, but there are a few details we need clearing up."

"I see. And this conversation is being taped, I presume," he replied. "Or were you deliberately failing to mention that fact?"

Grace looked him square in the eye. "No, Mr Hampton, it was to be my next point. And I should also tell you that if you would like a solicitor present, we can arrange one for you."

He smiled coldly. "So much for a 'friendly chat'. It might have worked as well; putting me in here rather than an interview room, telling me that the conversation is being recorded purely for training purposes. Clever, in an amateurish short of way."

"I don't like this at all," Gerry said slowly, emphasising each word carefully.

"Should we call Boyd?" Brian asked. They had seen the others leave, knew that only Boyd and Eve were left, besides themselves and Grace.

Gerry shook his head, pretending to be busy on the computer. He didn't have his back to Grace's officer, as that would have been far too obvious, but he couldn't see much in the periphery of his vision either. "Let's leave Grace to do her thing and if it goes tits up...."

"...We'll rush in like the cavalry," Brian finished somewhat dryly.

"Do you really want to get Boyd in here now?" Gerry asked. "Seriously?"

"Alright, alright, but if this goes wrong...."

"I know, I know. I'll be strung up by my bollocks from the nearest post." Gerry sighed. "I'd kill for a cigarette right now."

Inside her office, Grace found herself bristling automatically at Dean's words, but she refused to let herself be baited. "Alright, Mr Hampton, why don't you tell me whatever it is you want to confess? Or perhaps I should tell you instead."

Dean smirked, and Grace couldn't believe the change in the man. Her initial impression had not been far off the mark, and her subsequent profile of him supported what she had first thought, but all other dealings with him had her convinced that she was wrong. Grace couldn't even put her finger on what exactly had alerted her to the fact that Dean Hampton wasn't all he made out to be, but she *was* right and in a way, that was all that mattered. Now, however, she had to think quickly because the man before her was different to the man she had been dealing with so far.

"You have no idea what you're talking about," he said confidently.

"Oh, I think I do, Mr Hampton. You see, you were in love with your daughter, who wasn't biologically your daughter. After your wife...'died', you turned your attentions fully to Lisa, hoping to win her over. Did you tell her you weren't her real father, in the hopes that it would help to change her mind? I imagine you did, and that she wasn't very impressed. In fact, I am willing to bet that is what caused the change in Lisa."

"Jack Riggs cavorting around with my granddaughter is what caused the change in my daughter," Dean replied heatedly, spitting out the name of his son-in-law.

"But she wasn't your daughter," Grace reiterated. "And Izzy isn't your granddaughter. And Lisa's behaviour changed long before she found out about that particular relationship."

Dean looked genuinely surprised. "You know about that? Then why haven't you arrested him?"

"How do you know we haven't?" Grace replied. "As I said, we're very close to completely the case, we just need to fill in a few blanks."

"You want my version of things."

"I want the truth."

"You can have it," he said with a smug smile. "For all the good it will do you. I know for a fact that without any evidence to back up what I'm saying, you can't charge me with anything. And I also know for a fact that you don't have that evidence because if you did, you would have arrested me."

Grace conceded all his points with a single nod of her head. "You are right, of course. And the reason I want to know if purely professional curiosity."

Dean smirked again. "My God, he really believes he's got away with it," Brian said, shaking his head.

The phone rang and Gerry picked it up. "Hello?"

*"It's me,"* Eve said. *"Where's Boyd?"*  
"Interview room."

*"Grace still with Hampton?"*

Gerry nodded, then remembered she couldn't see him. "Yeah. Why? Do you need one of them?"

*"Not exactly. I've just been re-examining Lisa Riggs' body, and I* think *I've come up with something that will prove she was murdered."*

Gerry whacked Brian on the arm and motioned him towards the phone. With both their ears next to the receiver, Gerry said, "Go on."

*"With death by overdose, there's no way to tell if the overdose was self-administered or forced, but just to be sure, I checked Lisa's lungs. Sometimes fragments and fibres of material can be found there if, say, the victim's mouth and nose were smothered to make them swallow the pills."*

"And?"

*"I found fibres. Only a few, though,"* Eve replied.

"What does that mean?" Brian asked.

She sighed. *"It means that unless you can get Hampton to say he helped end Lisa's life, we can't tie him to this at all. But if he'll confess that... Well, we've got the evidence here to make a watertight case against him."*

"We'll tell Grace. Thanks, Eve." Gerry put the phone down. "Well?"

"If we phone her, she might lose him," Brian said thoughtfully, returning his attention to the screen showing the ongoings of inside Grace's office.

"And if we go in, the same might happen."

"Better one of us than Boyd," Brian pointed out.

"Let's give Grace a little more time to work on him, yeah?" Gerry suggested.

"Alright, Dr Foley, I'll tell you what happened," Dean replied, his ego having been stroked enough to elicit a confession. "You're right, I'm not related to Lisa or Izzy at all, and so my interest in both of them was, and is, perfectly legal. My wife was...fine, but there is something about young women, especially Lisa. I loved her from the moment she was old enough to love, and I don't mean in the paternal sense. I wasn't her biological father and I rarely thought of myself as being her dad. I acted that way, of course, but I never really viewed her as a daughter. Yes, I wanted her, but I know she wanted me too. She hid it well, tried to make out that she didn't, but I knew she did. That's the only reason she married Jack, to make me jealous. You know how women can be, Dr Foley."

The comment was delivered in a mild tone and with a straight face, but Grace could detect the underlying leer. "Yes, I do indeed," she replied evenly.

"After Irene...died, I decided it was time that Lisa and I stopped playing the game and got down to business, so to speak. She spent a lot of time with me after her mother's death." He smirked. "She thought I was grief-stricken and wanted to take care of me. It was a good plan. It almost worked."

Grace's expression softened. "What happened?"

Dean's expression turned melancholy and his eyes became distant. "She kept resisting me, kept saying it was wrong. At one point even said she hated me. I knew it wasn't true, it *couldn't* be."

"This guy has the worst case of self-denial I've ever seen," Gerry muttered.

Brian grunted. "You can say that again."

"This guy...."

"Gerry," he said warningly.

"So I told her," Dean said.

Grace looked at him. "You told her what?"

"I told Lisa that I wasn't her father. She didn't believe me. Flew into a rage." He shook his head. "My Lisa would never have done that. Jack corrupted her, made her like that. I know he did. But I didn't want to lose her, so we never spoke about it again. Then one day she came to me troubled, upset, angry and confused." Dean shifted his head and stared at Grace. "Lisa saw Jack kissing Izzy. She said she couldn't believe it, her husband and her daughter making out. It was disgusting. I wanted to go round and sort him out, but she wouldn't let me. With the death of her mother, she wasn't strong enough to deal with this as well."

"More like after what you put her through, you bastard," Brian muttered darkly.

"I tried to help her, tried to comfort her, but she wouldn't have any of it," Dean finished.

"How did you try to help her?" Grace asked. "As a father? A friend? Or something more?"

"What does it matter? She's dead now."

"Yes, she is." Grace steepled her fingers thoughtfully. "Why did you preserve her body? Was it because you didn't want to be parted from her? Was it because she was finally all yours?"

Dean blinked in surprise. "Yes. Yes, exactly. She was mine and no one else's. No one missed her, no one looked for her. Not very hard, anyway. Jack ran off like the coward he was, and there was just Izzy, whom Jack had already corrupted and so she didn't care."

"Mr Hampton, tell me how Lisa died," Grace prompted him.

"I...she... It was an overdose. She stayed at my house because she didn't want to go home, she *couldn't*, and I had to go out. When I came back, she was dead. I suppose I panicked, but yes, a small part of me was triumphant too."

"He's lying," Gerry said, and Brian nodded in agreement.

"We're losing him," he added. "I think we need a different strategy."

Gerry nodded this time. "I'll get Grace, shall I?"

But Brian shook his head. "It'll need more than one of us to stay in that room with him. He might be old, like us, but I wouldn't like to tackle him alone. Ask Eve to come on in. She can do it, then we can get Boyd in."

Gerry nodded, once again surprised and impressed by Brian's grasp of the situation, and called Eve. Two minutes later, she was in Boyd's office. "You rang?"

"I did. We're losing Hampton and we think Grace needs to know about the fibres you found in Lisa's lungs," Gerry replied.

"We also think Hampton needs to be confronted with his granddaughter," Brian said. "He's told us most of what happened, but he's still holding back and that's the extra bit we need to tie him to this case good and proper."

Eve nodded. "And the both of you need to babysit while Grace leaves the room, is that it?"

"In one," Gerry said.

"Alright, let's go." Eve crossed the corridor and tapped on Grace's door, not waiting for a reply before opening it. "Sorry to disturb, but can I have a word, Grace?"

She moved away quickly, back into Boyd's office, Grace following while Gerry and Brian slipped into her office and stood either side of the door. "Have you got something else for us?" the profiler asked.

Eve nodded and explained about the fibres. "But we need him to confess."

"It won't happen, not now," Grace said, frowning. "He's given us all he's prepared to."

"Brian suggested bringing Izzy in."

"I think it's the only way."

"I'll go and tell Boyd about the fibres," Eve offered. "And about Brian's idea."

As the pathologist hurried off, Grace took the time to study Dean from a distance, and she could see the shutters coming down behind his eyes, closing himself off from the truth and reality, and she knew the window of opportunity to get a satisfactory result was disappearing rapidly.

A minute later, Boyd strode in with Izzy right beside him. He went straight into his office, his large body practically obscuring her smaller one. "Do you want to brief Mrs Riggs before we got into your office?" he asked Grace.

She nodded. "Thank you." She turned her attention to Izzy. "Mrs Riggs, your grandfather..."

"He isn't. Please don't call him that," she replied firmly. "As far as I'm concerned, he is nothing to me. And please don't psychoanalyse that statement or the reasons behind it. He has not been a part of my life for a very long time, and I want it to stay that way. But I'm not out for revenge; I just want closure for my past so I can move on with my future."

Grace nodded again and then quickly summarised what Dean had told them so far, but left out the forensics Eve had just presented. "We need to know for certain if he did or didn't have a direct hand in your mother's death, and we think that if you confront him, he will tell you the truth."

"Because he loves me and he still thinks, in the back of his mind, that he has a chance with me," Izzy replied.

"Yes," Grace said. "But if you are going to lead him on, if you are going to play that game with him, be very, *very* careful."

"I will." Izzy looked at Boyd. "Will you be sitting in on the interview, Superintendent?"

Boyd shook his head. "My presence wouldn't help. But I won't be far away." He looked at Grace as he spoke.

Grace caught his eye, a brief silent conversation occurring before she gestured towards her office and looked at Izzy. "Shall we?"

Dean had his back to the door, the two 'bodyguards' almost laughable, but the intent was clear. He wasn't leaving the room and he knew that the police were 'up to something'. And he could probably guess what it was. He heard the door open, heard hushed voices as, presumably, Dr Foley talked to the bulldogs and sent them away, and then the door closed again. But even though Dean knew what to expect, when he was confronted with the actuality of Izzy standing before him, he could feel himself becoming undone and he knew they had won.

But he tried to stay in control, tried to keep up the pretence. "Izzy! Thank God..."

"Don't," she said sharply. "Don't bullshit me. If you had been that worried about me, you would have tried harder to find me when I disappeared. But you knew why I stopped talking to you, and you knew where I had gone as well. You knew I was with Jack, you knew you'd lost."

"He's corrupted you, you don't know what you're saying," Dean told her in a soothing voice.

"No, Dean, I know exactly what I'm saying. You're not my grandfather, you weren't my mother's father." Izzy shook her head. "If you had told me this before, you know, things *may* have been different. But you chose to hide the truth from me."

From their position in Boyd's office, Boyd and Brian had to admit, silently, that they were impressed with the way she played her part. Even they would have been convinced, if they had been in Dean's shoes. Gerry had gone to the interview room to keep an eye on Riggs while Eve went back to the lab and so was missing out on all the fun.

"It's not too late, things *can* be different," Dean said, not noticing or not caring how desperate he sounded.

"Perhaps, but I need to know the truth about everything. I need you to be honest with me. No more lies, not about anything," Izzy told him. "I want complete honesty."

"They put you up to this!" Dean yelled, suddenly angry.

Izzy sat down next to him, her hand on his knee, the other on his arm. "No, they didn't. This is for me, Dean, and for me only. I have to know the truth, if things are to be different between us."

"She came to me, your mother, troubled," Dean started after a moment, his eyes glued to her hands on him. "She had seen you and Jack kissing. I didn't believe it, but I knew she wouldn't lie. I tried...I tried to help her, to be there for her, as a man, not a father figure, but she was so confused, she couldn't accept my help. Then one day...one day I really tried to make her see the truth...like I tried with you. If you had just given me a chance..."

"You tried to kiss her," Izzy said, her voice remarkably level. "You tried to hold her as a lover."

Dean nodded. "Lisa flew into a frenzy and slapped me. And I... I lashed out. Instinctively. Without thinking. Not hard enough to do any damage, but enough to stun her. I immediately tended to her, put a cool flannel on her face, made her take a couple of painkillers. She asked me for the bottle in her bag, said they were prescription painkillers, better than over-the-counter ones. I didn't argue, wanted to do anything to make her better, to get to a place where we could forget what had just happened." He closed his eyes. "I went to get her a glass of water, and when I came back she was semi-comatosed. And when I checked the bottle, I saw they were sleeping tablets. She had taken an overdose, and I started to panic. But then I started to think clearly. If Lisa had taken an overdose, she would die, and then..." He shrugged, his eyes still closed. "I was desperate. I wanted her so badly, my love for her all-consuming, and so I made a plan." His lids lifted and he looked up, his expression haunted. "You see, I knew about Sam Taylor, about his kidnapping and murdering those women."

"You what?" Izzy asked, shocked. "Uncle Sam... He... What?"

"He kidnapped and killed six women," Dean replied matter-of-factly, using the same tone as one does to discuss the weather. "And because he was a junkie and out of his skull a lot of the time, I knew about his activities. No one else did, of course, and the police were clueless as usual. But I knew. And my plan was simple, perfect, because not only would it have meant Lisa was mine, but I would have had you as well, and Jack would have been out of the picture permanently."

Izzy swallowed her anger and disgust. "How? How would that have worked?"

"Easy," Dean said with a smile, thinking she really was interested in how his mind worked. "Sam and Jack had been friends forever, and it would have been easy to frame Jack for Lisa's murder whilst also tying him to the other kidnaps and murders. A fingerprint here and there, which were easy to lift from glasses and bits of metal, and reapplied to certain places. And even now, after all this time, it almost worked."

"Dean, how did my mother die? I have to know," Izzy told him.

"She took an overdose," he replied, and for a moment, Grace thought that was it. But then his face twisted into some sort of manic sadness. "But it wasn't enough to kill her. As I cleared my freezer out, ready to put her in, she started to stir. I couldn't have that. And yes, I panicked. I took my sweater off, covered her face with it. I held it there until she stopped breathing. Then I stripped her and put her in the freezer. My plan was to wait for a few months and then allow her to be found. But Jack, the coward, disappeared." His tone was one of disgust.

"Why keep her all that time, then?" Izzy asked, bewildered.

"Because I loved her," Dean replied as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. "And because you were still around. I thought if your mother's body was found too soon after her disappearance, you would leave me." He sighed. "You did anyway. And then I decided to wait and see if either you or Jack would surface somewhere. When you didn't, I decided to make you. I knew that the police had Jack's prints on files from years ago, and so I rented an apartment in Sam Taylor's name, had Lisa moved there in the freezer, and then I pulled her out of the freezer and laid her on the floor. She looked so beautiful, like she was sleeping. I planted Jack's prints on the doorway and the freezer, and then left." He looked genuinely apologetic. "I didn't realise it would take years for her to be found."

"We've got him," Brian said, but there was little triumph in his voice.

Boyd sighed. "We have."

"I hate cases like this."

"That makes two of us."

Izzy was silent for a while, her head bowed. "You should have told me the truth years ago, when I still thought of you as my grandfather, when you were still a decent man...when you were the centre of my universe. Because then I did love you. Not in the way you wanted me to, I couldn't...I can't. But at least I loved you. That should have been better than nothing. But not for you, you wanted it all. And now you have nothing." She slowly moved her hands away and he didn't try and stop her. "I could have forgiven you for almost everything you did. But the fact that you deliberately tried to frame Jack, that you tried to have him sent away for life for something he didn't do... He was, and still is, a fine man who only ever tried to make the best of life, who looked after a family not his, and who loved my mother and myself with all his heart. *That* I cannot forgive."

As she headed to the door, Boyd made to leave his office. If there was to be a confrontation, this was to be it. But Dean didn't move. He was a man defeated and he knew it. Boyd called for two officers, who had been waiting outside the offices, to come in and take Dean Hampton away. Izzy stood between himself and Grace, with Brian hovering behind, as he was taken away.

"Mrs Riggs, you and your husband are free to go," Boyd said after a few moments. "Take him, go to the hotel and collect your things, and then go home to Portugal. Forget all of this ever happened."

Izzy looked surprised. "You don't want to charge us with anything?"

"Such as?" Grace asked.

"Under age relationship?"

"Falling in love. And if you say it wasn't sexual until you were of age and married, there isn't a damn thing to prove you are lying," Brian replied before Boyd or Grace got a chance.

"Thank you. And thank you for finally clearing this mystery up. Yes, I've learnt a lot of things I wish I could unlearn; so many things I wish I didn't know. But I finally have an answer to what happened to my mother; I can finally move on with my life. So I thank you, all of you."

"I'll have someone take you to the hotel and then to the airport," Boyd said.

Brian stared at Izzy's quickly retreating back. "Now that's what makes the job worthwhile."

"Unfortunately, management doesn't think so," Grace replied.

"Which leads me to the question – 'what do we do now?' I mean, we've solved the case, but what do we tell the Commissioner? The truth?" Brian's tone was sceptical.

"We wait until the others get back and then we discuss it. As a single team," Boyd replied.

"I'll put the kettle on, then," Brian said dryly.

TBC

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translation of the Portuguese -  
> Está tubo bem, minha pequena borboleta – It's alright, my little butterfly


	28. Endings

NT-WtD-NT-WtD-NT-WtD

"How did he behave?" Brian asked as Gerry entered the squad room.

"Like a perfect gentleman," the ex-DS replied. "I take it you got what you needed."

Grace nodded. "A full confession from Hampton, which we're not sure we can use or not because of the implications for Riggs' relationship with his wife when she was under age."

"Even though they say their relationship wasn't sexual, we only have their word to take for it and a prosecution council would tear holes in any defence they have in seconds," Gerry replied sarcastically. "So now what?"

Boyd sat back in his chair, his hands behind his head. "We wait."

"For what?"

"The others to come back," he replied. "We're going to discuss this as a time. Since all our careers rest on this, it doesn't seem fair to have just one person making the decision."

Brian looked at Gerry. "I think I'm worried."

Grace smiled. "I'm not. It also means that we're all in this together, for good or for bad."

"That's a good point," Gerry murmured.

Eve pushed the doors open, a weary expression on her face. "Did we get him?"

Boyd smiled at her. "We did. Good work, Eve."

"All part of the service," she replied, sitting down next to Gerry and automatically reaching for his hand.

"So," Brian said, "Where do you see this going?"

"The case? Our careers?" Grace asked.

Brian smirked a little. "Actually, I was talking to those two."

At that moment, Jack came back. "Oh, are we discussing Gerry's love life?" he asked innocently.

Eve rolled her eyes. "If I was paranoid, I'd say you had planned this."

"He's the paranoid one," Gerry replied, pointing to Brian.

"Just a case of working together too long," Jack said, the moment of levity broken by his comment, which, though lightly spoken, was shadowed with sobriety.

"How did the families take the news?" Boyd asked, turning the tide of the conversation.

"Thanks, Brian," the ex-DCI said as his colleague handed him a drink. "As any family takes such news. A mixture of gratitude, hate and indifference."

"You're becoming cynical in your old age, Jack," Gerry told him as he took the proffered cup from Brian. "Cheers, mate."

"Becoming?" Grace remarked mildly, and Jack glared at her.

"Is that the good coffee or do I need to make some of my own?" Stella asked as she walked through the doors.

Brian looked at her over the top of his glasses. "I will have you know that there is nothing wrong with my..." He broke off suddenly, staring at something just over Stella's right shoulder.

Eve groaned. "I really wish he hadn't stopped there."

"I agree," Boyd said, but then he followed the gazes of Sandra's team, all of whom were now staring in the same direction.

Chris stood in the doorway, looking both embarrassed and awkward, and – if Grace was a hazard a guess – a tiny bit scared, and she thought she knew why. Sandra and Chris had agreed on some rules before they started dating, and not interrupting work was one of them. By turning at her work place, he was breaking that fundamental rule and quite possibly putting his relationship with the Superintendent at risk. Grace thought the gesture was sweet and a quick glance at Eve told her the pathologist thought the same thing.

Boyd took charge of the situation, striding over the younger man who towered over him by a couple of inches. "Sandra isn't here."

"Good. I mean... I was wondering if we could talk. Please. Of you're not too busy," Chris said.

Boyd nodded and took a step towards his office, then stopped. "Grace?"

"Of course," she replied with a smile.

"In here," Boyd told Chris, gesturing to Grace's room.

Eve, noticing how tense Gerry – and the other two, for that matter – had grown, squeezed his hand. "I'm sure everything will be fine."

"Maybe. But if he hurts her," Gerry said, his voice a shade away from a growl.

"Are we talking about Boyd again?" Spencer asked, entering the squad room and heading straight for the coffee.

Jack shook his head. "No, Chris."

"Who?"

"Sandra's boyfriend," Brian supplied.

"He's here?"

Grace gestured to her office. "He just turned up. Where's Sandra?"

Spencer shrugged. "Talking with Jackie Burns' family, I guess. Did we get him?"

"How come you didn't ask that when you got back?" Brian asked, turning to look at Stella.

Her eyes widened and she waved her half empty cup around. "I had more important things on my mind!"

"Yes, we got a full confession from Dean Hampton, and we let Jack and Isabella Riggs go," Grace replied before any proper bickering could start. "Boyd wanted to wait until everyone had returned, though, before deciding what exactly we were going to do."

Spencer frowned. "What is there to decide? Hampton is a murderer who tried to sexually abuse his daughter and granddaughter, and Sam Taylor was a kidnapper and a murderer. Case closed."

"Hampton's confession implicates Jack Riggs, and we have evidence as well," Jack told him.

In Grace's office, Boyd was looking out at the team. "I hope you don't think I'm being rude, Chris," he said, "But we're in the middle of making some tough decisions and I don't want them making any without myself or Sandra present."

Chris nodded. "I understand. I was just thinking about what you told me last night, and how I reacted with Sandra. And while I realise we had set these rules about our relationship, I...I shouldn't be talking about this with you, should I?" he asked with a smile.

"Normally, I would say no," Boyd replied. "But I don't think this counts as 'normal'." At Chris' quizzical expression, he sighed. "I can't tell you any more than that, not because it's a secret but because it isn't my place. I really don't want Sandra's wrath directed at me, thank you very much."

Chris laughed. "I don't blame you."

"So, if you want to talk to me about 'this', then you can do."

"Thank you. I just thought, with what you said last night, that...."

"You could, and you can," Boyd repeated, a touch of impatience creeping into his voice.

Chris recognised the danger signs all too well, and he fought to keep the smile from his face, silently wondering if Boyd and Sandra knew how much alike they were. "I screwed up and I want to apologise to Sandra, but I need to know she isn't going to...well, react badly to my presence."

"I told her you apologised, and I told her you loved her," Boyd replied.

"What?" Chris asked, surprised.

"Don't you?" Boyd countered.

"Well, yes, but...." Chris' expression turned almost amused. "How did you know?"

"I'm a policeman," Boyd replied in a long-suffering voice.

"We agreed when we started seeing each other that we would keep it casually, but monogamous," he explained. "We both have somewhat insane commitments to our work and we agreed that it had to come first. But...I don't want casual any more. I mean, this has gone on far longer than I was expecting it to and now...well, now I'd like serious, monogamous, but still with the insane commitment to work. I just...I felt that if I came here to see Sandra, on her own turf, so to speak, she might feel more comfortable. And...she might take me more seriously." He shook his head. "I'm not quite sure how I arrived at that conclusion."

Out in the squad room, Spencer held his hand out to Eve. "Can I borrow your lighter?"

"I suppose you want a cigarette to go with it?" she asked dryly, fishing the item out of her pocket.

"Not really."

"I am not the world's best expert on women," Boyd was saying to Chris with a wry smile, momentarily oblivious to the ongoings outside. "But I think you made the right...choice..." He began to trail off as a flurry of excitement outside caught his eye. "Excuse me." He leapt to his feet, wrenched the door open, and yelled, *"Spence!"*

It was at that time Sandra made her return and for a few moments, she just stood and stared. And wished she had a camera. It was understandable, really. Spencer, it seemed, was trying to set fire to some papers with Eve's lighter, while Eve, Brian and Gerry were trying to dissuade him, rather bodily, from that course of action. Stella was hurriedly moving objects out of the way – coffee being the first and most important – while Jack just moved himself out of the way, sighing and rolling his eyes as he did so. Boyd was stood in between his and Grace's office, face like thunder, though Sandra couldn't see it, and Grace... Well, much to the amusement of all present, Grace was shouting encouragement...to Spencer.

"Did I miss something?" Sandra asked mildly.

"Yes, he's in Grace's office," Boyd replied without turning, not even seeming the slightest bit surprised by her appearance, before he strode over to the ensuing chaos.

Sandra, however, was shocked and turned slowly to see Chris merely feet from her. "I know what we said, but I've changed my mind," he told her. "I don't want to do casual any more. I want you all for myself. I'm not asking you to marry me...at least not yet." He smiled a little. "It's just...the way I reacted when you told me you were going away with DI Jordan made me realise I want more than just a couple of night a week from you. I want a drawer of my stuff at your place, and a bunch of your clothes hanging in my wardrobe. It took me acting like a complete idiot to realise that...I love you. I mean really love you, and I want this...." He gestured between them. "...To go somewhere. I realise that coming here maybe wasn't the smartest move, after we agreed that our work is most important to us. I don't want *that* to change because if it did, we wouldn't be the people we are. I want to feel like we're going somewhere. And now I'm repeating myself, so I'll shut up and give you chance to speak."

Which he did. And she didn't. And after a few moments, Chris sighed in resignation, nodded his head once, and started to walk out of Grace's office, out of the squad room, and out of Sandra's life.

"For God's sake, Pullman, just kiss him!"  
The exasperated yell had not come from, as some might expect under such circumstance, Boyd. Nor did it come from Grace. Or Jack, which was also a distinct possibility. Or Brian or Gerry. Or Eve. No, it was Spencer, who was still stuck under a small pile of bodies, only now his ear was being bent, literally, by Boyd. Eve and Stella were stood very close to Grace, in either support or to pre-empt a counterstrike, and Jack was still sat away from the fray, rolling his eyes once more.

"We won't look," was his addition to the proceedings.

Sandra ignored them all and looked at Chris' back. "You. Stop. Right there." Then she turned. "I am not going to kiss him in front of you lot." Before anyone could make any remarks, she grabbed his hand, dragged him into Grace's office, kicked the door shut and dropped a couple of blinds.

Eve looked at Grace and smiled. "Your office will never be the same again, will it?"

She smirked and looked at Boyd. "Oh, I think it's already been ruined for me."

Stella yelled loudly and covered her ears, while Gerry was smirking as well. Brian fixed him with a glare and said, "I don't want to know."

Jack was looking at Eve, who was wearing a similar expression. "That makes two of us."

"Great, now that's decided, would you mind getting the hell off me?" Spencer grumbled loudly. Gerry and Brian looked at Boyd, who nodded once. "Thank you." He made a pretence of playing nicely, then as soon as he was clear, grabbed the papers he was trying to burn before and clicked the lighter.

The lighter which Boyd was holding in between his finger and thumb, his expression one of exceeding smugness. "Looking for this?" he asked.

Spencer scowled. "It's Eve's."

"And for now, it's mine. Until you can all be trusted to behave." His words were clearly directed at Spencer, but his gaze travelled to Grace. "Listen, let's do this by the books and give them as little reason to shut us down as possible. Other than 'just because'."

"What difference does it make, sir?" Stella asked. "If they're going to close us down, why do we have to play nicely?"

"Because some of you will be able to get other jobs," Jack supplied. "Moved to other units, Home Office work, even teaching."

"But only if we play nicely," Brian added.

"Which, to be blunt, is shit," Gerry concluded.

Eve hoisted her mug into the air. "I'll drink to that."

"So will I."

Everyone turned in surprise to see Sandra stood a few feet from them, her arms folded. The blinds in Grace's office were once again open and Chris was nowhere in sight. "All sorted?" Boyd asked mildly.

Sandra nodded. "Thank you. Now, I believe the discussion was what we're going to do now, am I right?"

"Yeah," Spencer replied.

"Right. Paperwork. Let's get these bloody reports written and submitted as soon as possible," she said. "There's no point in delaying the inevitable, is there? The sooner Strickland and the Commissioner know what happened, the sooner they can pass sentence on us."

Boyd nodded in agreement. "Alright, let's get started.

"I'll fill the coffee machine up," Stella offered.

Grace headed to her office. "And I'll phone in the takeaway."

NT-WtD-NT-WtD-NT-WtD

"So you're saying that Dean Hampton was responsible for Lisa Riggs' death, and that Sam Taylor was responsible for the five unsolved kidnaps and murders," the Commissioner stated, quite unnecessarily. It was all in Boyd's report, and both men knew it.

"Yes, sir," Boyd replied, thinking that if the Commissioner wanted to play that game, he would play right along with him.

"And you let Lawrence Taylor go without charge."

"Yes, sir."

"And the same for Jack and Isabella Riggs."

"Yes, sir."

The Commissioner smiled. It was a chilling sight. "The CPS and other senior police agree with your and Superintendent Pullman's decisions in this case, and with the result you have presented. You are to be commended."

Boyd didn't say thank you; he knew the Commissioner was not one the ones who had commended them. Instead he remained silent, like a statue, waiting for his superior to continue.

"However...." Boyd tried not to smirk sarcastically. "...This does not mean you did well. You were so close, Peter, to saving your team, but then you had to be reasonable and start working with Pullman's unit." The Commissioner shook his head. "Can't you understand how hated you are by the rest of the force? Your success rate is second to none and you have caused several high-ranking officers a great deal of embarrassment."

"To be frank, sir, I'm not going to apologise for being good at my job," Boyd replied.

"And I don't expect you to. But you are becoming *too* successful. If you had failed with this case, it would have been better for you." He shrugged. "As it is...."

"Enough shadow-dancing, sir. What happens now?"

The Commissioner scowled. "Remember who you're talking to, Boyd."

Boyd gritted his teeth together. "Yes, sir."

"What happens now is you go back to work. And wait. I think that is all you can do, and I think you're lucky to have that. Now get out of my office."

Boyd stood and strode out, officers melting out of his path as he made his way back to the unit. Except for Sandra, who he ran into just outside of the offices; out of sight, actually, and from the look on her face, she had only just finished her meeting with Strickland.

She smiled tightly when she saw him. "Let me guess. We're lucky to have our jobs, we have to wait to see if we'll still be employed in a month's time, we were fine until we started being reasonable, and we're to be commended for our result, but they still want to hang us out to dry."

"I get the feeling we've been set up, and I don't know why," Boyd replied.

"Yes, you do. We're *too* good at our jobs and the brass feels like they're holding a hot potato," Sandra said, her smile turning into something more jovial. "The more success we garner, the bigger mess we'll make when we balls up. So they want to get rid of us while we're on a high, which means they're on a high. No matter how successful anyone gets, we're all expendable in this game."

Boyd's expression was sour. "Thanks, Pullman, I hadn't thought about it that way," he replied sarcastically.

"Any time, Peter. Now, shall we?" She gestured to the door.

"Ladies first."

Everyone eyed Boyd and Sandra as they entered the squad room together, their expressions grim, their jaws set, but their faces strangely unreadable. There was a few moments of silence, the two teams giving their leaders the chance to speak first, but when it became clear they wouldn't, Gerry sighed and volunteered himself spokesman.

"So? Are we out of a job or what?"

Sandra and Boyd looked at each other, and he gave an almost imperceptible nod, indicating she should speak as it was a member of her team who had voiced the question. "No," Sandra replied, then let out a breath and added quickly, "Not yet."

"The short version is this," Boyd said. "When we weren't working together, we safer than when we started to agree again."

"Separately, we're dangerous," Eve started.

"But together, we're a disaster waiting to happen," Jack finished, shaking his head.

"So, what do we do now?" Brian asked.

"We carry on working, separately, no contact allowed," Boyd said.

Stella's eyes widened. "At all?"

"Discreetly," Sandra replied.

Spencer sat back in his chair. "And then?"

Boyd smiled, but it was still grim. "We're on borrowed time, Spence. The only thing we can do is just wait and see what happened."

Grace barked a short laugh. "So, nothing new there then. But it still begs the question of what we do now. I mean right this very minute now."

Boyd stepped towards her and held his hand out. "We go our separate ways. We go home. Unless you want to go for a celebratory drink?"

"Not much to celebrate really, is there?" Gerry said mildly, looking at Eve. "I think we'll just go home."

Eve nodded in agreement. "Last one out turns the lights off?"

"I'll race you to the door," Jack said dryly.

They stared at each other for a few moments longer, fixing features and voices into their memories, knowing that they would never all be together again in the same setting. Fixing moments into photos in their minds, knowing the ones they had shared together would never come again. Knowing that words and goodbyes weren't needed, or even wanted. That it was best to just fade away, to return to normal work as if nothing had ever happened. As if they had never met.

And that was what they did. Minute smiles graced each face in the room as they took a few seconds to look at each other, and then they were all out of the doors, splitting off silently in the car park. It felt like the ending of something spectacular, something singular, but none of them could, or even tried to, voice precisely what it was.

And, incongruously, the sun was shining brightly in a clear blue sky.

FIN


End file.
